Of Beasts And Men
by camillablue
Summary: "You see the desperation in that one's eyes? The one with the red fur. I placed my bets on her." Beneath the bloodied sand of the Colosseum, Abraxas Malfoy buys a new werewolf pet for his son, setting events in motion that neither he nor young Lucius are prepared for. Ongoing.
1. Chapter I

**Disclaimer: **All of the gratitude to JK Rowling for allowing me to play in her world.

**Warning: **This story is rated M for violence and mature situations.

**Beta Love:** Special thanks to **Cordelia McGonagall **for her incredibly helpful insights and gentle encouragement. She is a rockstar Beta, skilled at keeping my comma-happy tendencies at bay, checking my facts against canon and 70s pop culture, and keeping the characters in their own skin. I owe her so much :)

* * *

**Of Beasts And Men by Camillablue**

**Chapter One - A Strange Conversation**

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_A few who watched me sail away_  
_Will miss my craft from the busy bay_  
_Some friendly barques were anchored near_  
_Some loving souls my heart held dear_  
_In silent sorrow will drop a tear_  
_But I shall have peacefully furled my sail_  
_In mooring sheltered from the storm and gale_  
_And greeted friends who had sailed before_  
_O'er the Unknown Sea_  
_To the Unknown Shore_

From **The Unknown Shore **by Elizabeth Clark Harding

* * *

**July 29****th****, 1969 – Night of the Full Moon  
****Malfoy Manor, Lacock, Wiltshire**

Lucius stretched out on a smooth slab of stone, embracing the heat of the rock with his back and soaking in the warm rays on his face. He closed his eyes contentedly as one foot dragged in the cool river beneath the rock, the sound of rushing water sweeping down the riverbed filling his senses, mingling with the smells of the giant yellow rose blossoms that grew in bushels along the cliffs. He brought a long cigarette to his lips, inhaling deeply and breathing out his nose. It was a perfect day in July, not a cloud in the sky, and the most gentle of breezes lightly swept tendrils of pale blond hair across his face.

It was a rare moment of solitude for the Malfoy heir. He generally had little time to himself, as it was mostly spent at his father's business functions, his mother's social events, or his friends' parties. He was currently avoiding one of his mother's more ridiculous charity events. Something about raising money for pure-blood families who couldn't afford to send their children to Drumstrang. His own family had sent him to Hogwarts "to establish certain connections" or some such excuse.

Lucius reached over and checked the silver pocket watch lying on his shirt, and swore harshly when he registered the time. He'd best return now, before everyone left and his mother noticed he wasn't in bed sick with a bad cold. He pulled the gray linen shirt over his head as he trudged back to the Manor, taking the long way, skirting the open fields in favour of the cover of trees that encircled the property.

As he approached the back entrance to the Manor where the door had been thrown open to accept some afternoon warmth, faded voices could be heard, slowly getting louder. He quickly ducked behind a patch of decorative bushes when he heard the _tap-tap_ of his father's cane on the stone floor, which became muffled as he and his companion stepped out into the garden.

Abraxas Malfoy was nearly eighty-five, which, as a wizard, was not particularly old, but his dependency on the elaborate, serpent-headed cane caused an ugly stoop in his posture, and his waist-length silver hair falling around him made him seem far older. Despite the warm day, he was wrapped in black furs, and the ring-encrusted hand that clutched his walking stick had a permanent shake.

He was accompanied by Antonin Dolohov, a wizard Lucius didn't particularly like but was generally able to avoid. The man was everything the Malfoys were not; greasy, unkempt, with dark hair falling into his eyes and a few days' worth of stubble on his chin. His clothes were loose and ill-fitting, and carelessly showed off the various daggers and knives shoved into the sash at his waist. His gait was smooth and wiry, his eyes constantly flitting around his surroundings.

"Are you quite sure the time is right?" Abraxas was asking gruffly, leaning heavily on the cane as he shuffled along towards the gazebo on the far side of the gardens. "It is not that I hesitate out of disloyalty; on the contrary, I would simply be devastated if my son proved himself less than impeccable to suit the Dark Lord's needs."

Antonin scratched the stubble on the side of his face, shiftily looking anywhere but at the Malfoy patriarch. Instead of answering the question, he gave the old man a long, measured look. "The Dark Lord knows your secret, Abraxas," he said knowingly, raising his eyebrows to the cane the older man clutched.

Abraxas hissed through his teeth, glaring at the man next to him. "Is there really no such thing as privacy in this accursed circle anymore?"

Antonin rolled his eyes and smirked. "Privacy? You jest? The Dark Lord knows all, sees all, hears all. And the fact that you've been slowly dying from Dragon Pox for the last five years has hardly escaped his knowledge, or that of anyone else for that matter. Judging from the tremors, I give you…less than a year, maybe?"

The old man muttered a few curses under his breath, and something sounding like "There was once a thing called common decency," earning another snort from his companion.

"With you gone, the Dark Lord will want a loyal, undisputed supporter of House Malfoy," Antonin continued, eyeing Abraxas warily. "As one of the oldest, purest Houses in Britain, your loyalty is beyond important, and I do not think he would mind…forcing his hand, if you understand," he finished with a sneer.

When the silver-haired man continued to silently stare at the gardens in front of him, the Death Eater continued. "On a bit of a side note, I am curious though…how did you manage to stay alive for so long?"

"I have half a mind not to tell you anything for the way you're speaking to me," Abraxas sniffed. "In fact, I won't tell you. Let's just say...my wife proved useful for something, after all."

Lucius wasn't ignorant of the Dark Lord's wishes – though to be honest, he had thought that he would have a bit more time before being officially initiated into the circle of Death Eaters. He had, of course, known of his father's condition, but apparently the old man had managed to conceal just how close to death's doorstep he was.

"I hear Lucius is quite gifted in Potions as well, and has a bit of a talent for inventing new curses. If he is a supporter of our cause, he would be a great asset, and surely would greet the Dark Lord with open arms," Antonin was saying.

His father had gone back to staring at the flowers, and a shaky hand reached out to stroke the petals of a particularly glorious scarlet blossom. "Yes yes, I know," he replied faintly, seemingly lost in thought. "He's just so young…I remember my own time at school, though I know it was long ago now. To have nothing to worry about except your studies, Quidditch matches and pretty witches. I would like that for him."

Both Lucius, from his hiding place, and Antonin, raised their eyebrows. "I never had you pegged as a particularly…fatherly figure, Abraxas," the dark haired wizard said in a slightly surprised tone. "Wasn't it you who tried out Rabastan's new twist on the Cruciatus paired with Reductor on your own son?"

Lucius winced at the reference, remembering when he had come home in June with the news that he had received the second highest grades in his year. It wouldn't have been so bad if it weren't for some swotty Muggle-born Ravenclaw being the one who beat him to the top.

His father had flown into a blind rage, his hair swirling around him as he temporarily abandoned the cane and hit his son squarely with a curse that made his bones feel like they were being repeatedly smashed and then forcefully knit back together, over and over again. The curse had been invented as a way to skirt around the Ministry's alert system anytime an Unforgivable was cast. The pain of the Cruciatus coupled with the blasting effect of Reductor. The Dark Lord had gifted the older Lestrange brother with an enslaved centaur as reward for his efforts.

Throughout his punishment, Lucius's mother had barely watched from her place at the table, carefully examining her manicure and occasionally taking off one of the many jewel-encrusted rings on her long fingers to admire it more closely. When her son had finally dragged himself off the floor and back onto his chair, his bones aching and blood running down his chin from where he'd bitten through his lip, she had merely given him a forced smile before asking if he could please pass the salt. With a trembling hand, Lucius had slowly done as bidden, and for a moment, their fingers touched, his mother taking a second too long to withdraw her arm. Her son had looked up, a glint of hope in his eyes as he searched her face for a clue as to how she felt, but the moment was gone, a feather blown out to the open sea.

"Oh, pain is an exceptional motivator," Abraxas airily responded, plucking the blossom from the bush and sitting down on a marble bench outside the gazebo. "It doesn't mean I don't care for the boy, in the sense that I would like to see him succeed and have everything a Malfoy should have."

Antonin shook his head, frowning. "I think you might just be getting soft in your old age." Lucius silently prayed that he was right.

"You misunderstand me," Abraxas muttered, and Lucius strained his hearing to catch his father's words. "Do not make the mistake of thinking me a senile old man," he said softly. "No…let my boy enjoy his time at Hogwarts. Let him think that this is all the world has to offer him. And then…" the old, withered hand closed around the red petals, crushing them into tiny fragments. "We must crush him. After, like a phoenix, rising from the ashes, he will be ready to be moulded as I see fit. Only then will he be able to truly serve the Dark Lord the way that I have intended him to."

An eerie, high pitched laugh escaped the Death Eater's throat. He grinned down at the old man. "I like that," he said, clapping his companion's back. "Like a phoenix. That's poetic, Abraxas."

_What game is the old man playing? _Lucius wondered, watching as Abraxas brought the flower's remains up to his lips, then blew them into the breeze, where they danced lightly for a moment, before a stronger gust whipped them away into the sky. He quietly stood and crept back into the still open backdoor of the manor, leaving before his hiding place could be discovered.

* * *

On his way to his chambers, Lucius pondered his father's words. While he hated the old man with a passion that smouldered deep within his belly, he was also grudgingly respectful of the patriarch.

After the famous pure-blood riots interrupting the Squib Rights March of 1961, the man had made a puppet of their current idiotic Minister for Magic, Eugenia Jenkins, by using his contacts at the Daily Prophet to cleverly twist their stories to paint her as an incompetent, useless figure who couldn't even manage to keep one silly riot under control. Humiliated, the witch had turned to her advisers for clues on how to proceed, all of whom were, of course, deeply seated in the Malfoys' purse pocket.

Power like that was intoxicating. Lucius wanted to have that charisma, that aura that attracted people to him. But he wasn't sure he could be as callous and cruel as Abraxas. He still winced at some of the stories his father's friends told him, and while he was a strong supporter of the Dark Lord's cause, the methods used to enforce those beliefs sometimes seemed...drastic.

And what was his father playing at now? Had he noticed his son's weaknesses, and was set on destroying them by 'crushing' him?

Lucius had reached his chambers, and threw himself on the leather couch that sat in front of a huge, floor to ceiling window. On one end of the couch was a small table groaning under the weight of thick, old books, at the other end was a tall, elaborate birdcage that was currently empty. The opposite side of the room was nothing but shelves stuffed with books, leaving space only for the white double doors that led to his bedroom. He was lying on his back with his fingers tucked under his chin, when a flurry of feathers snapped him out of his reverie.

The plain barn owl dropped the heavy brown envelope on his lap, then immediately flew off without waiting for a reply, all business. The address read:

_Mr. Lucius Malfoy  
__West Wing of Malfoy Manor  
__1 Serpentine Crescent  
__Lacock, Wiltshire_

Without exuding much excitement, Lucius ripped open the heavy parchment and tossed aside all contents except the shiny Prefect badge. Well, at least his father would be pleased. He tilted it slightly, allowing the late afternoon sun to catch on the silver. His chin lifted when a soft knock on the door sprang him out of his reverie.

"Come in," he drawled lazily, not even bothering to look up when Branwynn Malfoy stepped into the room.

"I see you're feeling better," his mother said tonelessly, her hands folded in front of her. Once gloriously long raven hair was pulled tight into a bun at the nape of her neck, and her face, though no older than forty, was riddled with spidery lines.

"Quite," Lucius replied, matching his mother's tone.

Her eyes travelled down to the badge he was playing with. "Congratulations on your post as Hogwarts Prefect," she said without looking at him. "Your father will be proud, I'm sure."

Lucius shrugged, reaching behind his head to place the badge on the stack of books on the side table. "I suppose." He stared at the empty birdcage. "Did you need something, Mother?"

She hesitated. "Your father's friend Antonin Dolohov was just here," she started.

"And…?" Lucius asked, trying not to sound impatient.

"And…he was very interested…in you." She seemed to be struggling to get the words out, as if grasping for air while being pulled under water.

"Oh…are you quite alright, Mother?"

"I…" she stopped again, regaining her composure. "I want you to be careful, this year," she said slowly, "Don't make any foolish decisions."

Lucius's eyebrows furrowed together. "Mother, do you really think me incapable of taking care of myself?" he snapped. "I'm a Hogwarts student, not a Ministry Auror going undercover with a vampire coven."

"Oh I know," she said, wringing her hands. How peculiar. Lucius had never seen his mother so distressed. In fact, he'd never seen her display much of any particular emotion. "Sometimes I wonder…" her right hand reached out to touch his cheek. Lucius inhaled sharply at her touch, holding his breath. He opened his mouth to ask her what the hell was going on, but before he could say a word, she had turned on her heel and left the room.

* * *

**August 5****th****, 1969 – Third Quarter Moon  
****Worple Family Residence, Barnton, Cheshire**

"Oi! Eldred!"

Lucius took off his shoe and chucked it at his friend, who had his nose so close to the pages the blond wondered how the hell he could possibly see anything.

"OW!" the other exclaimed, rubbing his head tenderly. "That bloody hurt! Was it really necessary?"

Lucius rolled his eyes exaggeratedly. "For the past ten minutes I've been telling you about my life-altering day, and all you do is read that damn book of yours!"

Eldred closed his book with a sigh, hooking his dark hair behind his ears as he focused on the irritated wizard. "Your father's an evil git, your mother's a clueless idiot, and Dolohov is uglier than ever. Not sure I'm catching what's so different?"

Lucius leaned back on the shabby lounge chair and stared up at the cobwebs that gathered in the corners of the high ceiling. He had arranged this meeting with his best friend, Eldred Worple, who, while poor as those abominable Weasleys, luckily had parents devoted to blood purity as well, and was therefore deemed by Abraxas an acceptable, albeit not exactly ideal, companion for Lucius.

The Worple home was small, modest and cozy, though Lucius obviously didn't like it for its charm. He preferred the grandeur of Malfoy Manor. But Eldred's parents were rarely around, and his father was a drunk who kept a bottomless stash of firewhiskey in his desk, to which the boys helped themselves. It was much more appealing than sitting stiffly in his mother's drawing room, keeping conversation to a minimum under the watchful eye of his pale, painted ancestors.

"It's hard to explain," he mumbled into his glass, staring at the amber liquid. "Something's different. My father has some sort of plan that involves making me more…like him, I think."

Eldred grimaced. "Another Abraxas Malfoy? Not sure there'd be enough room on this tiny planet for both of you. Do you think old Voldy's behind it?" he asked casually, making Lucius cringe.

"I wish you wouldn't call _Him_ that – he's really not so funny in person," he replied, scowling. He ignored his friend's snort and continued. "No…I mean, he wants me to obtain the Dark Mark, which I would do willingly of course. But my father doesn't think I'm ready. This is _his_ plan." He frowned thoughtfully, rubbing his left forearm without realizing it.

Eldred shrugged, opening his book back up. "I think you might be overreacting. I mean, I know he's the evil Lord and all, but your father isn't going to do anything to permanently mess up his one and only heir, especially after all the trouble he went through to have you," he added with a knowing look.

Eldred was, of course, referencing the fact that the Malfoy patriarch had married four times, three of those wives dying in unusual circumstances after about a decade each of trying to produce an heir. His fourth and current wife had given birth to two stillborn sons before finally having Lucius, and ever since his birth, her health had slowly but steadily deteriorated. Lucius knew that many thought his family cursed, though none were stupid enough to voice their suspicions anywhere near him or his family. He thought they might be right, but he kept that thought completely to himself.

"I suppose you're right…" Lucius said, storing his anxieties in the back of his mind for later. "Anyway, what book are you reading that's so much more interesting than our conversation?"

"_The Living Dead: A Guide to Inferi, Vampires &amp; Zombies._"

"Ugh, you're obsessed," Lucius groaned, kicking off his other shoe and putting his heels on the coffee table between them while sinking deeper into the chair. "I really don't see what's so interesting about vampires; In my opinion, any creature that can be defeated with a mild herb isn't worth getting excited over."

"Garlic doesn't _defeat _vampires, they just don't really like it," Eldred pointed out while Lucius shrugged, crossing his ankles. "I would have thought that you might find vampires a little more interesting, considering your future master seems so keen on recruiting them for his war."

Lucius gaped back at him. "How in Salazar's name did you hear about that?"

Eldred shrugged, looking back at his book. "Around. People are starting to talk, you know. Voldy should probably spend more time keeping his followers quiet and less time on planning world domination if he really wants to keep all this a secret."

"Sometimes I forget why you're in Slytherin, Eldred," Lucius said, his eyebrows furrowing. "And then I realize that if anyone else could succeed at world domination, it's you. You'd just have to get your nose out of that book first. Anyway, if the Dark Lord is interested in rounding up all the mystical creatures for his army, then it isn't my place to question why he's doing it."

Eldred was giving him a strange look. "Your sixteenth birthday is at the end of this year. Are you…nervous?"

Lucius glanced sharply at the other boy. "Of course not," he snapped. "This is what I was raised to do. This is the path my family has chosen for me. The Dark Lord will purify wizarding Britain, or possibly the rest of the world. And whatever my father has planned for me, it will doubtless continue to bring prestige and honour to the Malfoy family name."

"How many times have you rehearsed _that _in front of the mirror?" Eldred asked incredulously. "I mean, I get that my poor as shite family holds little appeal to such great and powerful beings as your Dark Lord, and I really shouldn't concern myself with such things, but you don't think that maybe…at some point…they'll go too far?"

Lucius tried to appear nonchalant and took another sip of his drink. If only his friend knew the extent of the horrors already visited on the Muggles occasionally brought to Malfoy Manor. "_Purity will always conquer_," he recited, shrugging.

Eldred rolled his eyes. "When in doubt, recite the family motto, eh Malfoy? Speaking of purity…have you heard about Andromeda Black? Or should I say…Tonks?"

Lucius nodded. "Married a Muggle. Her poor family, living with that shame! Despicable."

"Her younger sister will probably be devastated," Eldred said innocently, staring intently at his book. "She'll probably be in need of…comfort."

"Comfort, hmm?" Lucius knew exactly where this was going. Eldred had fallen in love with Narcissa Black the second he set eyes on her in second year. Everyone, the youngest Black sister included, knew about his crush, though the awkward wizard remained blissfully unaware that his secret was common knowledge.

"Yes. You know, a shoulder to cry on, that sort of thing."

Lucius raised an eyebrow. "Oh? Have someone in mind, Worple?"

His friend continued to avoid eye contact. "Narcissa is a very pretty girl."

"She is," Lucius agreed. He thought about telling his friend that he would most likely, in fact, be formally engaged to the girl in question by the end of the year, but decided against it. Eldred was, for all intents and purposes, his only real friend, and he wasn't ready to lose him just yet. Besides, perhaps if the boy managed to make an arse of himself and Narcissa properly put him in his place, the delusional crush he'd been nursing for the past three years might finally evaporate.

"And if you don't want to date her…" Eldred was saying.

"I don't," he clarified. _I'll probably just marry her one day,_ he silently added.

"Then you wouldn't mind if this year…maybe…I asked her to come to Hogsmeade with me?"

Lucius studied the rather skinny boy, with long, greasy black hair, big glasses and shabby, hand-me-down clothes, and was struck by a momentary pang of pity. Despite the inevitable outcome, he decided to give his friend some advice. "Take a shower first. And borrow something of mine to wear. Actually, no. I'll just buy you something when we're picking up school supplies. Are you going to send her an owl?"

Eldred shook his head. "I was thinking of asking her at Midas's birthday party next month."

Lucius frowned. "Not in front of all the guests, I hope?"

"Merlin's beard, no," Eldred hastily replied. "I was thinking of asking her when she's getting ready to leave, so that if she says no then I can just go home and hang myself," he finished dramatically.

"Excellent!" Lucius said brightly. "Now that's settled, come outside with me for a smoke."

His friend wrinkled his nose. "You still sucking on those Muggle vices?"

"Wizards smoke tobacco in pipes. Not very different really."

"And yet you hide them from your parents."

Lucius let out an irritated sigh. "I don't _hide _from my parents. I simply couldn't bear my mother's incessant nagging if she saw me smoking." He inwardly smirked at the mental image of Branwynn Malfoy acting like an everyday housewife, chastising her son while chucking the cigarettes and sending him off to bed without supper. Not likely. He would probably be locked in the dungeon for a fortnight as punishment for bringing filthy Muggle goods into the Manor. Not that he would ever admit such a thing to his friend.

Eldred stood up as well, closing his book. "Alright, let's go out the back."

A few minutes later, the two wizards were sitting side by side on a small wooden bench in the Worple family backyard. Some scraggly grass and a rickety doghouse were the only other additions to the fence-enclosed yard. The inhabitant of said dog house was happily drooling on Lucius's leg, eyes looking adoringly up at Lucius.

"Your mutt is ruining my pants," Lucius muttered as his friend added more firewhiskey to his glass.

"I'll have you know that Adrian there is a pure Irish wolfhound," Eldred replied, unfazed. "And I think you can afford to get your pants cleaned, princess."

"I think I'd rather just buy new ones," Lucius said stiffly, causing his friend to roll his eyes.

The two clinked glasses and took long sips before Lucius dug in his pocket for his cigarettes, offering his friend one, who surprisingly accepted. They blew smoke into the clear, twilight air, watching the stars poke out behind deep blue clouds.

"This year is going to be different," Lucius said quietly, taking another sip of his drink. His thoughts wandered to a sixteenth birthday, Ordinary Wizarding Level examinations, and the Dark Lord paying him special attention. He thought of his fourth year, when the most important thing seemed to be whether Slytherin would win the Quidditch Cup. Different, indeed.

Eldred gave him an appraising glance before turning back to the stars above. "You got that right."

Lucius looked back at his friend, and thought about asking what _he _could possibly be brooding about, but instead shrugged, turning back to the night sky. "Look, you can see _Cetus_ perfectly tonight," he said, fluidly drawing the constellation with his finger.

His friend followed the pattern with his eyes. "Cetus, as in, the sea monster from the Greek myths?"

Lucius nodded. "The one that was supposed to kill Andromeda when her parents chained her to a rock by the ocean, but Perseus manages to save her… Ha, I bet Cygnus and Druella Black wish _they_ had a Cetus right now," he added, chuckling at his own joke. "Too bad actual sea serpents are so harmless."

"Clever, Malfoy," Eldred said sarcastically. His head tilted thoughtfully. "Can you imagine being chained to a rock by your own parents, laid out like dinner for a monster? The Greeks were morbid."

No longer laughing, Lucius stared intently at the constellation, trying to keep his voice light. "No, I don't believe I could imagine such a thing. How utterly morbid." As he echoed his friend, his mind drifted to the conversation he'd overheard in the garden the previous week. _And then…then, we must crush him,_ Abraxas had said, tearing apart the red blossom. He shivered involuntarily, and took another sip of firewhiskey, feeling the amber liquid burn through him, _almost_ completely chasing away the coldness that had settled in his bones.


	2. Chapter II

**Chapter Two - A Wolfish Grin**

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_Will all great Neptune's ocean wash this blood__  
__Clean from my hand? No, this my hand will rather__  
__The multitudinous seas incarnadine,__  
__Making the green one red_

From **Macbeth **by William Shakespeare

* * *

**August 27****th****, 1969 – Night of the Full Moon  
****The Colosseum, Rome, Italy**

"You see the desperation in that one's eyes? The one with the red fur. I placed my bets on her."

Lucius's eyes followed where his father was pointing. They sat in the centre of Rome's Colosseum, and below, bathed in moonlight, three werewolves were being brought out and paraded around the ring, each one burdened by so many chains that the massive paws dragged through the sand. Balls of blue light hung suspended around the stadium and up the aisles. The red furred creature his father spoke of was frothing at the mouth, steam escaping her nostrils in the cool night air.

Though Lucius had never seen a werewolf fight before, he'd heard other Slytherin classmates talking about them in hushed tones, usually to brag about a particular beast that had won their parents plenty of money. Before, when Lucius had never set foot in an actual arena, the romanticized version of events retold by classmates had seemed exciting and even heroic.

Now, with the smell of sweat and blood in the air, and moonlight throwing strange shadows on the beasts below as they growled under the weight of their chains, he felt cold sweat setting into the palms of his hands and along his spine.

Suddenly, the bindings on the jaws of the red wolf snapped and with a snarl she turned on her handler, instantly ripping out his throat. The crowd erupted in cheers as six men leapt from the stands to subdue the beast and rebind her mouth. The wolf howled as a whip cracked her shoulder, and a chain was thrown and wrapped tightly around her bloody muzzle. Subdued, a new handler grabbed the end of the chain and once again began dragging the wolf around the perimeter of the arena. The body of the previous handler remained in the sand.

Abraxas was laughing deeply, which soon turned into a wheezing cough. "I chose well with that one. Take a look, my son. You shouldn't miss anything during your first fight!"

Lucius forced himself to raise his omnioculars to his eyes, in order to study the slight build and patchy fur of the beast in question, and felt unsettled at the sight of her blood-soaked muzzle. Though he knew of some of his father's extracurricular activities within the Manor involving unlucky Muggle families, Lucius had never actually seen a person die in front of him.

His eyes fell on the mangled body of her previous handler, and he took a long drink of elf wine to steady his voice. "Do the handlers often end up dying in the arena?"

Fabbri Lanzio, the man sitting to the left of Abraxas, who was a business associate from what Lucius gathered, leaned in to answer. "It does happen occasionally. They're usually Squibs who have been kicked out of countries like Lithuania and Estonia, where they've managed to rid themselves completely of the useless degenerates. They probably don't speak very much English and are paid rather better than anywhere else I imagine."

"Why don't they just have wizards do it? Couldn't they keep the beasts in line easier than a Squib?" Lucius asked, having a hard time looking away from the body in the dust.

"It's part of the entertainment too, of course," Abraxas replied, seeming faintly annoyed at having to explain such a thing. "Besides, no self-respecting wizard would volunteer to be a _werewolf _gladiator's handler. The beasts are filthy."

Sensing his mood souring, Lucius changed the subject. "How could you know the red one would be so ferocious? She's even mangier than the others, and that's saying something."

"You have much to learn, my son," the old man replied, frowning. The hand not gripping the head of his cane was deftly flicking a Galleon across his knuckles as he contemplated the arena.

"Werewolves are by nature savage creatures, but even an animal that large might cower in the presence of two or more other wolves, or turn and run, and that doesn't sell. To ensure a good fight is to be had, the wolves are taught to fear nothing, which involves an extensive training process. The goal is to train the beast to never back down, even if a dragon was placed in the arena. A newly acquired werewolf is first starved for a lengthy amount of time. Then, he or she is exposed to different kinds of pain, as well as other vicious animals, and rewarded with food when they fight back, or punished if they hesitate or cower."

Lanzio spoke up, adding, "But you mustn't forget, all the training in the world is worthless if you have a lycanthrope with weak blood."

Abraxas nodded. "Precisely."

Lucius raised an eyebrow, attempting to appear nonchalant. "Weak blood?"

"A werewolf with weak blood, or I suppose you could say, a coward's instinct, will always run, no matter how much you starve or torture it," Abraxas explained. "A strong-blooded wolf has the right instinct, and only they can truly be trained to be a proper champion, who will never back down from a fight."

"So…you're saying that you think the red wolf has strong blood?"

"Yes. You can always tell if a wolf is going to be a coward or a champion by the eyes. Now, all three werewolves down there are fighters of course – they wouldn't be here if they weren't – but you see the gray male? His eyes are darting everywhere, as if assessing the arena for an escape route, and he backed up nervously when our girl killed her handler. He's probably won before by evading the attack as much as possible, and getting a lucky bite in here and there."

The Italian nodded. "And that black one there – he's mean for sure, but stupid. I imagine he's a bull that sees red in the arena. Useful at times, but I imagine little Red is much more cunning, and she'll manage to slip from his clumsy grasp easily."

"There is a difference between the instinct to survive, and the instinct to fight. They often go hand in hand, but not always. Our girl has plenty of both. You'll see shortly," Abraxas added confidently.

Lucius took a moment to process, struggling to keep his mind focused on the fact that these were beasts, wolves, hardly human. Earlier, when he and Abraxas had strolled through the cells beneath the Colosseum, assessing the contestants in order to place bets before the moon rose, as was custom, it had been jarring to see the gladiators in human form. He'd only had a chance to see the black wolf up close, but now in his mind he focused on the man's eyes, red-rimmed and glinting with madness, spittle on his chin and scars all over his body. _Not the man's eyes, _he corrected himself mentally. _The beast's eyes._

A brief image flitted through his mind of that same man lying torn in the arena, eyes permanently widened in horror and blood leaking from his mouth as a red wolf chewed on his throat. Lucius shook his head and took another long drink, shifting uncomfortably in his seat, the alcohol settling nervously on his near-empty stomach.

To distract himself, he started studying the other spectators sitting slightly below the Malfoys. He leaned over when he noticed a pale witch with heavy-lidded, dark eyes and waist-length, unruly black hair clapping her hands excitedly at the commotion below. Lucius frowned, unhappy to see Bellatrix here and hoping that she didn't turn around to see him.

Though darkly beautiful, something about the witch had always unsettled the Malfoy heir. In his third year, he had run into a distraught first year girl as she barrelled out of the lavatory, clawing at her own arms until she bled. Shocked, Lucius had grasped the girl's wrists, asking her why she was mutilating herself. The girl had screamed _Dirty blood! Must drain all the dirty blood. Filthy muddy blood! GET IT OUT! _Lucius only managed to make her stop with a body binding curse, and as he levitated the girl in order to transport her to the hospital wing, Bellatrix had casually wandered out of the same bathroom, a cold smile spreading across her aristocratic features. She'd tossed her hair at them before slowly walking away.

A feeling of dread had washed over Lucius, but Bellatrix was older and much more powerful than he, so he had carried on with the task of taking care of the young girl. Later, her wounds healed and the curse lifted, the eleven year-old remembered nothing about her attacker. Professor Dumbledore had asked Lucius if he'd noticed anybody else around, and the boy had hesitated, but eventually lied, knowing his family's ties with House Black were strong and if he'd threatened them in any way, his father would be furious.

The witch in question was sitting next to a bored looking man her age, with long, braided dark hair and wearing an immaculate black suit. Lucius recognized him as Rodolphus Lestrange, whose father was often present at the Manor for various meetings. He noted how despite being betrothed, neither seemed at all enamoured with the other. Bellatrix was devoted to watching the entertainment below, while Rodolphus spent an inordinate amount of time swirling the ice around in his glass. Every once in a while he leaned over to say something to a very young-looking, frail girl, whom Lucius thought looked somewhat familiar. Seeing Walden Macnair a few seats to her left, he realized she was Ariadne, his youngest daughter. Lucius vaguely remembered his mother mentioning that the Macnair sisters had been sent to study at an all-girls school in Estonia.

Lucius's attention was diverted back to the arena as the handlers finished their parade and stood aside while three rusty, iron cages materialized at three even points around the circle. In the middle of the opposite side of where the Malfoys sat was the massive gate that the handlers and wolves had originally come from, and after leading the beasts into their respective lairs, leaving their bindings still intact, the heavy gates slowly creaked open, allowing the men to exit the arena before the games began. The red wolf was slowly pacing around her cage, while the other two sat staring up at the crowds above.

A short, stocky man standing a few meters above the gate across the arena tapped his wand to his throat before bellowing, "WELCOME TO THE 175TH ANNUAL WEREWOLF GLADIATOR GAMES!"

The man threw up his arms and the crowd screamed their approval. He waited a bit for the spectators to quiet down. Lucius looked over to see Bellatrix sitting regally straight in her seat, clapping slowly with a dark glint in her eye, while her fiancé lounged and continued to alleviate his boredom with the ice cubes in his firewhiskey.

"WE HAVE SOME EXCITING NEW FACES THIS EVENING, BUT BEFORE WE INTRODUCE THEM, PLEASE WELCOME RETURNING CHAMPION…NERO NIGHTSHADE!"

The stands exploded as the pure black werewolf's mouth was released from its bindings, and a long, eerie howl erupted from his throat. Obviously, this was Bellatrix's favourite. She seemed to have temporarily lost her composure, as she was alternately shaking Rodolphus's shoulder and pointing dramatically at the arena. The younger Lestrange brother merely sniffed at the now spilled drink on his lap, waving a hand to clean up the mess. Meanwhile, the massive wolf brought himself up to his full height, displaying rippling muscles and a broad chest.

"NEXT TO NERO, TWO TIME CHAMPION OF THE AMERICAN WEREWOLF GLADIATOR GAMES, HERE ALL THE WAY FROM NEW YORK, PLEASE WELCOME…BRUTUS BLUESTREAK!"

At his words, the almost completely gray wolf with a streak of blue fur smeared across his face had his jaws released from his bindings, and dug in the dirt to reveal an old, bare human skull, which the wolf happily crunched down on for the crowd's amusement. Abraxas and the Italian roared, enjoying the display immensely.

"AND NOW WITCHES AND WIZARDS, WE HAVE A SPECIAL TREAT FOR YOU TONIGHT! PRESENTING THE UNDERDOG, HERE FOR HER FIRST FIGHT IN THE ARENA, RIONACH REDMANE!"

Lucius leaned forward, omnioculars in hand as the red wolf paced in her cage, her muzzle still soaked in blood and dripping onto the sand below. She was nearly half the size of the other two wolves, but seemed controlled, taut, as if ready to spring at any second. As the cheering became deafening, the wolf sat on her haunches and let out a blood curdling howl. Instead of the eerie, powerful and deep pitch of Nero, Rionach's cry was feral and sad, and chilled Lucius to the bone. When she finished, the wolf hunched down into a crouch, staring carefully at the latch on her cage.

"ARE YOU READY FOR BLOOD?!" the announcer bellowed, raising a fist in the air. The crowd screamed its approval. "THEN LET THE GAMES BEGIN!"

At his words, the gate slowly crept open, and trumpets bellowed as a tall, dark figure emerged from below the Colosseum. Lucius nearly choked on his wine as he realized what was coming out of the darkness. At first, only the yellow lion's head was visible, and the head alone was bigger than three men. Massive cloven hooves appeared as the creature stepped forward, revealing its goat-like body, and a crocodile's tail that whipped around threateningly. The tail itself was at least four meters long. Once fully visible, the beast roared deafeningly, baring rows of sparkling, pointed teeth.

Lanzio was shaking his head disbelievingly. "They managed to bring in a _Chimaera_? The Ministry has given the beast a XXXXX rating. We paid good money to watch a good fight – this is going to be nothing but a thirty second slaughter!"

Abraxas laughed at his friend's outburst and clapped a hand on his back. "Oh, I very much doubt it will be a quick execution for our furry friends down there," he yelled happily, making himself heard over the roars of the beasts and the crowd. "Part of the reason the Chimaera is so dangerous is its cunning. I think we are in for an excellent show."

Lucius was hardly listening, his eyes were fixed on the action below. At the sound of a gong, the latches on the iron cages were slowly being released. The red wolf had discontinued her pacing and stayed perfectly still as she waited to be freed, her nostrils flaring, while the other two danced around and pawed the ground impatiently, tongues lolling and red eyes intently focused on the mystical beast before them.

As soon as he was freed, the gray-blue wolf leapt forward, snarling loudly and running a big loop around the Chimaera. The larger beast paid no attention, instead focusing on the black wolf that had surged forward soon after, bluntly attempting to sink his teeth into the lion's snout. The Chimaera threw him off with a huge shake of his head, and as he landed the crocodile tail whipped around at his legs, effectively throwing the wolf to the ground with one back leg twisted gruesomely in the wrong direction.

Meanwhile, the gray wolf had been slowly closing in his circling, and daringly bit at the right haunch of the Chimaera on his way past, darting out of the way of the tail in the process. Lucius shifted his gaze over to where the black wolf struggled to get up, and was stunned to see the female lunge forward while the champion was down, staying away from the dangerous teeth and instead opting to sink her jaws into the bushy black tail. The wolf screamed in pain as the newcomer managed to rip his tail clean off of his body, carrying it back over to her cage as a prize, leaving a thick trail of blood behind her.

The crowd loved it. Lucius had never seen such a thirst for blood in his life, and it was contagious. Despite the knots in his stomach, he found himself grinning along with his father, pleased that their chosen competitor was doing well. Abraxas leaned forward to shout in his son's ear, struggling against the noise of the crowd. Lucius wrinkled his nose in distaste, smelling the sickly sweet, pungent odour of old age and alcohol, mixed with the scent of bloodshed from below. "Our little lady fights dirty. What a lovely twist." He leaned back to say something to Lanzio that Lucius couldn't catch.

The gray-blue wolf continued to taunt the larger beast, pecking at the more vulnerable goat body and avoiding the head and tail. Lucius focused in on the black wolf, but he was obviously bleeding out, too weak to stand up. The red female, blood on her snout dripping down her neck and paws, went back to crouching at the entrance of her cage, keeping her back protected while ready to spring from the front.

The entire crowd inhaled sharply as the American champion was seized by the Chimaera at the neck and shaken, having danced a little too close to the lion's face. Just as quickly, a blur of red fur streaked over the wolf and onto the back of the goat body, and once above, turned and sank bloody jaws into the neck of the beast.

The Chimaera roared, dropping the gray-blue wolf and rearing up on its hind legs, but the red wolf held steady on its back. The crocodile tail wound around and smacked into the side of the female wolf and she went flying, crashing into the side of the arena.

Lucius rubbed sweaty hands together, feeling his heart drop into his stomach, silently willing her to stand back up. Ignoring the elf wine, he reached to fill a new glass with firewhiskey and drank the entire thing in one shot. His vision blurred slightly, and the knots in his stomach loosened as drunkenness settled into his bones.

The American and the Chimaera were in a face off, circling around each other, the crocodile tail threateningly coiled, blue light reflecting off the scales. The fur around both necks was matted and red. But the red wolf was back on her feet, warily watching from the edge of the arena. She darted in front of the gray-blue wolf, snarling at the Chimaera and putting herself in a terrifyingly dangerous position, inches away from the lion head.

In a matter of seconds, the red wolf was behind the Chimaera, the gray-blue wolf was completely headless and the lion head was slowly crunching down on the blue streaked snout in a gruesome parody of that same wolf's earlier display for the crowd. Lucius, along with most of the other wizards around, was frantically fiddling with the dials on his omnioculars, attempting to replay the bloody scene. He paused briefly before pressing play, wondering if he really wanted to re-watch the bloodbath, but twisted curiosity won in the end, and his senses were comfortably dulled by firewhiskey anyway.

It seemed that the American wolf had lunged at her back, and the Chimaera had stepped in to strike her front, which should have effectively torn the female wolf apart. However, her quick, agile body had twisted and slid beneath the goat body at the very last second, and the lion's jaws had instead closed around the head of the gray-blue wolf. With a disgustingly loud rip, the head was torn off, the remains of the body crumpling in the sand.

Lucius tasted bile at the back of his throat as he slowly lowered the omnioculars, and took another swig of firewhiskey to rid himself of the taste, this time straight from the bottle.

"Incredible!" Abraxas was yelling. "And you thought there would be no entertainment," he added to the Italian, grinning wolfishly.

At his words, the Malfoy heir looked back down at Bellatrix and Rodolphus. Bellatrix had an ugly pout on her face, though it turned into a wicked smile at the next development.

The black wolf, whom Lucius had believed dead at this point, seemed to have been simply lying in wait. The red female had obviously thought the same, as she had carelessly stepped too close and the bigger, more powerful champion had reached up and bit deeply into her thigh. A pitiful, high-pitched scream erupted from her mouth.

No one could have predicted what happened next. At the sound of the scream, the Chimaera had launched itself over to where the two wolves were entangled and, with a single whip of the crocodile tail, brought the heaviest part crashing down on the neck of the darker wolf, killing him instantly.

For the first time since the Malfoys had arrived, the stadium was completely silent. Even Bellatrix seemed too surprised to let out a sound. And then, before thousands of onlookers, the Chimaera faced the trembling, bloodied form of the red wolf, and bowed its head and front legs before her.

She seemed to be appraising her foe carefully, golden eyes glinting in the light of the full moon, narrowing on the bent form before her. Struggling to her feet, the wolf limped over to the massive beast, and began licking the wound on its neck that she herself had ripped open.

The crowd angrily exploded. Abraxas had to practically scream into his son's ear to be heard. "They're angry because no one comes here to see a display of mercy. But this is much more interesting. I want that wolf."

* * *

**August 28****th****, 1969 – Dawn After The Full Moon  
****The Colosseum, Rome, Italy**

Lucius leaned against the wall near the entrance to the arena, away from the noise but not quite outside of the magical wards. Young Muggles traipsed past, blissfully ignorant in sparkling dresses and impractical shoes, walking home after an evening of reckless fun just as the darkness began to lift, dawn chasing the full moon away.

The blond shakily brought his cigarette to his lips, mentally attempting to steady himself. He'd managed to mumble something to his father about going to say hello to a fellow classmate that he'd noticed earlier, and Abraxas had been so preoccupied with the outcome of the fights that he'd impatiently waved his son away. Lucius was grateful for a chance to collect his thoughts and settle his stomach, as the wine and firewhiskey were sloshing around uncomfortably. The thick smell of blood in the warm Italian air didn't help.

"Why look who it is, pretty little Lucius Malfoy."

Lucius stiffened at the sound of Bellatrix Black, and turned to see her sauntering towards him, hair flowing behind her, wearing a toga-style red gown that echoed the carvings of Roman goddesses inscribed along the edges of the Colosseum.

"Hello Bellatrix," he replied warily. She crossed her arms and leaned on the wall next to him.

"All I get is a 'hello'?" she asked, pouting, and tapped her cheek with a long nail to show what she wanted.

Struggling to keep his face neutral, Lucius complied and leaned over to brush the witch's cheek with his lips. As he withdrew, she smiled wide, though it failed to reach her eyes.

"I hear Daddy's shopping for a new pet," she stated casually, though watching his reaction carefully.

Trying to appear indifferent, he slouched further down on the wall, taking another drag of the cigarette. Bellatrix followed the motion of his hand with her eyes. "So he's actually buying the bitch? Strange. My father got out of the werewolf gladiator business years ago. Said it was more trouble than it was worth."

Bellatrix straightened and slowly started circling him, her heels tapping on the cobblestones. "I think this one's special," she said softly. "It's pretty, like sad little Lucius…why so sad, pet?"

"Special? What's that supposed to mean?" he asked sharply. "And I'm not sad. Just tired. It's been a long night."

He felt her breath on the back of his neck as she leaned in to whisper. "Oh, nothing you need to worry that handsome face of yours about," she said, ignoring his last comment.

Lucius swallowed uneasily as she came to stand back in front of him. She was nearly the same height as him in her heels, and he found it difficult to look her straight in the eye. Torchlight danced in the dark pupils, making her seem inhuman. "I suppose I'll find out soon enough," he replied, unsure how to respond.

"Indeed," she agreed, reaching up to stroke the side of his jaw.

Lucius took a nervous step back, disliking the strange glint in her eyes. Her fingernail caught on the bottom of his chin as he moved, leaving a small spot of blood. She caught the droplet with her thumb before it dripped, and stared at the redness as if deciding whether to lick it. Before she had the chance, Lucius blurted out, "How's the wedding planning? You and Rodolphus seemed…"

"None of your gods damned business!" she snarled, her striking features twisting into something terrifying. Lucius took another step back, shocked at the outburst, but the grimace was gone as soon as it appeared, and Bellatrix cleared her throat delicately.

"The Dark Lord has special plans for you, my sweet," she whispered, ignoring his question. "He tells me _everything_ you see, he loves me so." She bit her lip and her eyes fluttered closed, clearly overcome with emotion at her own mention of their master.

Despite how uncomfortable he was, Lucius was desperately curious to hear what she might know. "Can…can you tell me what those plans are?"

Bellatrix put a finger to his lips, and he flinched as if her touch burned. "Ah ah ah," she tutted, as if he were a naughty three year-old. "We mustn't ask questions we don't want the answers to, hmmm? Now run along and be a good boy for Daddy. I think you'll find him where all the little puppies are put up for adoption," she finished, reaching over to play with a stray blond hair, her dark eyes boring into his.

Doing his best not to shiver under the Black woman's scrutiny, Lucius flicked away his cigarette and shouldered his way past the witch, shaking his head as he went in an attempt to rid himself of the image of her glinting, black eyes. He asked a security guard if he'd seen Abraxas recently, and the man pointed him towards the hall to the left that was lined with iron cells. His father was standing in front of a cell with a satisfied expression on his face. He smiled as his son approached.

"Ah! Lucius, there you are. Come, I want you to meet your new pet," his father exclaimed, gesturing excitedly with his cane.

Strangely apprehensive, Lucius slowly walked towards Abraxas, unsure of what to expect. He looked down at his hands, nervously playing with the white gold serpent adorning his right middle finger. The emeralds in the snake's eyes caught the torchlight in the corridor. Abraxas impatiently leaned over and grabbed his arm, pulling the boy directly in front of the cell.

"Look! Isn't she exquisite, my son?"

Lucius slowly looked up, taking in the scene before him. Two extremely tired-looking women bustled around, poking and prodding the limp, slim body with their wands and hands, fixing up a deep gash above the knee and various cuts along her arms and neck. The girl's face was turned towards her spectators but her eyes were closed and her breathing was rhythmic as she slept deeply. Long hair, the longest Lucius had ever seen, tumbled in reddish gold waves down to the ground beneath her cot.

The girl's face was much younger than Lucius had expected, and he tried not to dwell on that fact. She would have been very beautiful, but a long scar ran from temple to nose, slicing her face in half, and she was too thin and gaunt. The planes of her face were incredibly sharp, and pale, spidery lashes fluttered against prominent cheekbones.

Despite everything, she was, as his father had said, exquisite.

Beside him, Abraxas was asking questions to a man whom Lucius assumed was her current owner. "Where did you say she was picked up again? Northern Ireland?"

The short, fat man with little hair left on his balding head nodded vigorously. "Yes yes, that's right, on some sort of holiday with her family. She has no magical ability that I've seen, and her memory's been completely Obliviated."

"I thought Muggles couldn't become werewolves," Lucius said, confused.

"It's very rare," the man said eagerly. "Their bodies aren't as strong as ours. But this little lady's a fighter – as you could see for yourself!"

Abraxas looked at Lucius sternly. "As I said, this one is special."

"A perfect pet for a privileged boy," the balding man added, leering slightly at the Malfoy heir before turning back to his father. "Though I hope you plan on fighting her again in a few months at the games in Peru. Talent like hers shouldn't be wasted!"

"I should think not!" Abraxas assured the man, smiling. "Oh, forgive my manners. You must meet my son, Lucius. Lucius, this is Richard Pettigrew, and he'll be selling us his merchandise," he finished as he gestured toward the sleeping werewolf with his cane.

Pettigrew laughed heartily as he shook Lucius's hand. It was warm and sweaty, and the blond frowned in revulsion. "Sounding awfully confident there, Malfoy!"

Abraxas gave the man his most chilling smile. "I have good reason to be, Mister Pettigrew."

"I didn't know we were getting back into the werewolf gladiator business?" Lucius asked his father quietly while the shorter man stepped away to chat with the Healers.

The Malfoy patriarch shrugged elegantly without looking at his son. "Oh, just the silly whims of an old man I suppose," he said vaguely. "You're old enough to have your own entertainment now."

"Do you…expect me to…train her?" Lucius asked awkwardly, thinking of the rather busy year he had planned for himself. "I'm not sure Dumbledore would allow such activities on school grounds."

"I'm sure we'll think of something you can-"

He was interrupted by a shrill scream, and both wizards attention snapped back to the cell. It seemed the werewolf had woken up, and clear blue eyes flashed as she sank her teeth into the hand of the closest woman. Pettigrew stepped forward yelling _Petrificus Totalus! _and her limbs snapped shut, her body falling to the ground with a thud.

Abraxas hooked his cane on his arm and began clapping, slowly, all eyes turning towards him. "Mister Pettigrew, kindly open the door for me. I would like to have a chat with my new pet," he said softly.

The balding man scurried to do as bid, reminding Lucius strongly of a giant, fat rat. His father stepped into the cell, waveringly crouching down to the floor and leaning heavily on his cane. His son moved to help support him, but a glittering, wrinkled hand stopped him, so he stepped back respectfully.

"My my, what a little spitfire we have here," Abraxas said softly, reaching out to brush away the hair that had fallen across the werewolf's face when she fell. "Your behaviour, while entertaining, won't be tolerated where you're going," he said, quietly. He then leaned forward and whispered in the girl's ear, though Lucius didn't catch what he said.

With that, Abraxas held his hand out to Lucius, who stepped forward to help his father stand. "We'll pay your price, Pettigrew," the old man said, and the other smiled wide at the prospect of making such a profit. "Have her cleaned up and sent to the dungeons of Malfoy Manor. My house elf will make the proper arrangements."

The two Malfoys stepped back out of the cell along with everyone other than the werewolf girl, and once the lock was back in place Pettigrew muttered _Finite Incantatum _to release her from the body-bind curse. She silently stood up and moved closer, resting her forehead on the bars of her cell. Abraxas swiftly turned on his heel, indicating Lucius to join him, but the younger man hesitated, unable to turn from the deep blue eyes flecked with gold.

The girl smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes, twisting her scar dreadfully, and he was struck by how her face mirrored Bellatrix's expression when she'd lost composure. The red haired girl stuck out her tongue and slowly licked the bar of her cage, keeping her eyes focused on his.

With a shiver, Lucius averted his gaze and quickly walked away after his father, feeling the werewolf's piercing stare going through him. He felt a deep tremor run through him, and rolled his shoulders back self-consciously, unable to shake the feeling of having a dagger sticking out of his back.


	3. Chapter III

**Chapter Three – Her Secret**

* * *

_When we were children,  
__We used to think that when we were grown-up we would no longer be vulnerable.  
__But to grow up is to accept vulnerability...  
__To be alive is to be vulnerable._

**\- Madeleine L'Engle**

* * *

**August 30****th****, 1969 – Waning Gibbous Moon  
****Malfoy Manor, Lacock, Wiltshire**

_Lucius_

Spidery lines of light poked through the heavy drapes in his bedroom, dancing across his eyelids. He blinked several times, trying to rid the sleep from his eyes. Ever since his trip to Rome, he'd slept restlessly, often waking up feeling as though he'd been struggling through nightmares, but unable to remember what they were.

With some extra effort he dragged himself out of bed and walked over to the window, swiftly throwing the curtain to the side to allow the full force of the sun to spill into the room. As the curtain moved, his breakfast materialized on a small table in the adjoining room. Wrapping himself in a black robe, he padded barefoot through the white doors to his morning meal.

He was about to take a sip of coffee when the door connecting his quarters to the rest of the Manor was abruptly thrown open, revealing his father. Despite the stooped posture, in his layers of furs and silver hair he seemed to fill the entire doorway, a shadow from a bookshelf falling across his face.

"Good, Lucius, you're up. Our new pet has finally arrived. Finish your breakfast and meet me in the courtyard," Abraxas instructed before turning and limping away.

Lucius stared after his father's retreating figure, hardly noticing as hot coffee leaked onto his hand. _Think of her as if she's a dog. No. Not her. It. It is a dog. _He shook his head and dabbed at his hand with a napkin, leaving the rest of his breakfast untouched. He stood and walked over to close the door his father had left open, letting the latch catch softly.

After changing, Lucius headed towards the inner courtyard, pausing to say good morning to his mother on the way. She merely raised a hand as he passed by her perch on the window seat that overlooked the grounds. Ever since their strange conversation nearly a month prior, his mother had seemed even more pale and quiet than usual, not even bothering to look at him when he spoke.

Pushing thoughts of his mother to the back of his head for the moment, Lucius strode out into the sun, where his father was watching two burly men setting up a massive iron cage.

"I thought you were going to keep her in the dungeon," Lucius said, squinting up to his father as the warm August sun beat down on them.

"I am, but I thought we could start our work out here. Such a beautiful day; it would be a shame to waste it mucking around beneath the Manor," Abraxas replied while gesturing to the clear blue sky.

It was hardly mid-morning, but sweat was already starting to trickle down between Lucius's eyes and shoulder blades, and he pulled a leather thong out of his pocket to tie up the hair that was sticking to the nape of his neck.

"It really is unfortunate the Ministry is so strict when it comes to the use of underage magic," Abraxas was saying. "For today, I suppose, you can watch. I've been wanting to try out Rackharrow's new curse anyway. It looks so…satisfying," he said, smiling coldly.

Despite the heat, Lucius felt a shiver run up his spine. "I didn't know he'd invented one."

"Oh it's quite good," Abraxas replied as the men finished their task and headed back into the Manor, presumably to bring out the cage's newest resident. "You feel as if ice-cold needles are slowly being pushed into your skull. It's tricky though. When he was testing it out last week, he held on for a little long, and the Muggle degenerate ended up going blind. No matter for him, but I'd rather our latest purchase remained in possession of her vision." Misinterpreting his son's horrified expression, he smiled again, putting his hand on Lucius's shoulder. "Oh don't worry, we'll be careful today, I won't ruin your pet for you."

Lucius struggled to regain his composure, and without realizing it, started to nervously play with his serpent ring, twisting the gold around his finger over and over. The two burly men returned, each grasping an arm of the red-haired werewolf. Unconscious, her head was slumped forward, and her feet and hair dragged on the ground. They tossed her into the cage without much ceremony, and after ensuring all was in order, nodded to the Malfoys before heading to the Apparition point outside of the grounds.

"_Rennervate_," Abraxas muttered, pointing his cane at the prostrate lycanthrope, and her eyes slowly opened, blinking owlishly in the bright sun. She carefully sat up, taking stock of her surroundings, and upon seeing the two Malfoys, stood up and walked to their side of the cage, cocking her head to one side. She wore what looked like a clean, white sheet, tied tightly around her body, and a tattoo with the numbers 482 was stamped into her left shoulder.

"Ah, how nice of you to join us, Miss…hmm, I seem to have forgotten your name. Kindly indulge an old man, dear?" Abraxas asked, honey dripping from his tongue.

A low growl emitted from her throat. Lucius nearly stepped back before realizing that his father was watching him intently. "That won't do, Lucius, now will it? Obedience is very important to me, young lady. _Expulso!_"

The curse knocked the girl backwards. She slammed into the bars at the back of the cage, her left elbow cracking loudly against the steel. Lucius winced inwardly, then mentally shook himself, repeating his mantra. _It's a dog. Dogs need training. Don't look in her eyes. Its eyes._

The werewolf hissed as she held onto the bars to pull herself back up. "Your name?" Abraxas asked politely, studying his fingernails.

"Rionach," she rasped, wetting chapped lips. The flecks of amber in her irises flashed. Lucius wiped sweat off his brow as his father turned back to him.

"Lucius, our pet is behaving much better. Kindly summon some water for her?" Abraxas asked in the previous honeyed voice.

Lucius was so surprised, he nearly turned to get it himself before realizing how ridiculous he looked. "Dobby," he said loudly. The house elf popped into view, staring at Lucius's boots. "A pitcher of water."

The elf muttered a "Yes, Master," before disappearing again with a pop. Lucius looked over at the girl, who was staring at the spot where Dobby had appeared with a mixture of curiosity and horror.

"They are vile little creatures, aren't they?" Abraxas asked airily. "But so useful."

The house elf reappeared and set a silver pitcher and three goblets on a bench. Abraxas clicked his tongue, clearly irritated. "A wooden cup for our pet, mongrel," he snapped. "I won't have her filthy lips on our family silver." He slapped Dobby on the back of the legs with his cane, drawing a faint whimper from the elf before he limped over to take back one of the goblets. He returned a few seconds later with a plain, wooden cup.

"Reward your pet, Lucius," Abraxas commanded. His son dutifully poured water into the wooden cup and started towards the werewolf, who was staring intently at the liquid in anticipation, sweat trickling down her face.

He hesitated about a foot from the cage, unsure about getting too close. The wolf's eyes moved from the cup in his hand to his face, and they locked eyes for a moment. _Ye gods, not her eyes,_ Lucius thought, frozen to the ground. A slight, warm breeze suddenly wisped through the gardens, blowing the girl's hair into her eyes. Golden-red locks masked the deep, jagged scar. Like this, eyes wide, hair over her face, she seemed so...harmless. Lucius struggled to remember the grim, blood-soaked beast he saw in Rome.

"We haven't got all day, Lucius," came his father's impatient voice from behind him, and he hastily thrust the cup in front of him. The girl's hand reached out, trembling faintly, and took the water from him, their fingertips touching slightly.

Lucius paused, staring at his hand where it touched hers, and time slowed around them. He slowly looked up, watching the hair play across her scarred neck. His gaze travelled up to her eyes, glinting through the curtain of hair, and the pain in them jolted Lucius back to reality. He withdrew and returned to his father's side, rubbing his hand on his shirt absent-mindedly.

"Now, the fun begins!" Abraxas announced, smiling widely. "Lucius, watch my movements carefully, and follow along." Despite his age and the illness, when it came to performing wand work, the Malfoy patriarch was still as graceful and precise as he was sixty years ago, the tremors and stoop falling away as he executed spells and curses.

"You see how my foot steps back, like this? And then I raise my wand arm above, flicking the wrist precisely at eye level? Yes, like that. As you raise your wand arm, your other should curve inwards, and then out again in an S form – no, more like this – yes, exactly." Lucius deftly imitated his father, who nodded his approval.

"Now, repeat the incantation after me. _Glaciacus Confodere!_"

Lucius repeated, stumbling a little over the pronunciation. Behind him, he thought he heard a small snort of amusement.

"No, that won't do," the old man muttered. Lucius flinched as Abraxas raised his wand arm again, but his father merely repeated the spell.

"It really is a pity you won't be able to execute the curse with me. Perhaps I'll have a word with a few friends of mine at the Ministry for next summer. In any case, watch closely." Abraxas drew his wand out from its sheath within the cane, and fluidly stepped back, bellowing _Glaciacus Confodere! _as his arms moved in unison.

A stream of blue light shot from his wand, and the girl dropped to her knees, hair falling around her as she gripped her head, screaming. Lucius's hands shot up to cover his ears, the blood-curdling noise reverberating in his skull. Abraxas didn't seem to notice, as he was intently watching the werewolf, whose nose had begun to bleed. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head, the whites bloodshot.

Finally, Abraxas took a step back and lowered his wand, breathing heavily. The blue light disappeared as the girl slumped down, face first and unconscious.

"That…was difficult," Abraxas wheezed, gesturing for Lucius to help hold him up. His son quickly stepped forward and looped his father's arm over his shoulders, involuntarily inhaling the old man's overripe, pungent smell. He brought the man to one of the marble benches, where he collapsed in a whirl of fur and silver hair.

"Water," Abraxas ground out, and Lucius hastily filled a goblet and brought it to his father's lips. The old man drank greedily, and when he was done, took a few deep, shaky breaths. "That…is a powerful curse," he admitted. "I should have saved it for a less important day, perhaps." He gestured with his chin towards the cage. "Clean up your pet. I suppose you won't see her again until the holidays. I'll keep her in shape until then."

Relief flooded through Lucius as he realized how much tension he'd been holding onto. He had four whole months to wrap his head around what was expected of him. "Dobby!" he snapped, avoiding looking at the cage. The house elf instantly appeared. "Clean up the girl and then lock her in a cell. And…feed her," he added hesitantly, looking at his father, but Abraxas was leaning back, eyes closed, focused on breathing properly. Dobby nodded, then momentarily vanished, reappearing in the cage, where he touched the arm of the werewolf before they both disappeared.

He turned back to his father. "Do you require anything else, Father?"

The Malfoy patriarch opened one eye, scrutinizing his son's face. "Do you feel pity for the beast?" he asked, before closing the eye again and refocusing on his breathing.

"I-" Lucius started, about to deny his anxieties, but thought better of it. Abraxas always seemed to know when his son was lying. "I do, a little," he admitted. "It's harder when…when she's not transformed."

"This training process is as much for you as it is for her," his father said cryptically. He waved his son aside. "Run along. I'm sure you have plenty to do before term begins in two days."

Lucius paused, a strange feeling washing over him. It seemed so absurd to go back to reviewing new textbooks when a tortured werewolf lay in the dungeons of Malfoy Manor. _It's just a dog, _he reminded himself. _And dogs don't hinder their masters._

"Thank you, Father," he said before turning away. Abraxas grunted in response, and Lucius headed back towards the Manor. As he approached, he noticed his mother turning away from the window, her body a slim outline shriveling from the sun.

* * *

_Abraxas_

His face tilted upwards and his eyes closed, a slow smile creeping over his features. He whistled a little, his right hand playing with the serpent-headed cane. Summoning a house elf, he instructed her to bring him his owl, a small table and writing supplies. As he waited, he picked a lone poppy, misplaced in the garden.

Abraxas knew of his son's distaste for his father's...extracurricular activities. No matter. It was long ago, but he remembered being a boy. Unaware of the darkness in the world, and without the stomach for what must be done to cleanse society of the stench of all Muggles and half-breeds. He learned. Lucius was a good boy. He was obedient, and that was what was most important. Perhaps sometimes he was a tad too harsh on him, but what strong father wasn't?

Still, sometimes Abraxas felt a small prickle of doubt as he watched the myriad of emotions play across his son's face. Lucius may have others fooled, but Abraxas could read him like a book. For instance, just now, before he left, Lucius was struggling with some inner turmoil. He'd even referred to the werewolf as "the girl." A small slip, but it told the old man plenty.

It was that damn mother of his. She was too simpering, and he too indulgent, while Lucius was young. No matter, he thought again. If he couldn't torture the weakness out of his son, then he would exploit it.

The elf returned. A few moments later, his massive, brown eagle owl peering down from his shoulder curiously, Abraxas began writing in his elegant, long script. By the time the sun was high in the sky, three rolls of parchment were filled. Humming to himself, the old man rolled them together and applied the Malfoy wax seal, then muttered a few words to his bird, who dutifully grasped the parchment and set off into the clear blue sky, heading North.

* * *

_Rionach - a few moments earlier_

Her eyelids felt like iron weights, and she saw red as light filtered through the cracks. Tears stung and blurred her surroundings, a few drops sliding onto her lip. She tasted the droplet, the saltiness jarringly real, forcing an understanding that the nightmare that was her life was still in motion. She heard sounds, maybe voices, but they seemed so far away, as if she was being dragged through water. _I don't want to break the surface_, she prayed desperately. _I want to stay here, wrapped in darkness._

"_Rennervate!_"

Instead, a feeling like two hooks being dragged along her ribcage forced her into consciousness, an anchor working in reverse, pulling her back towards life. As her eyes adjusted to the light, two dark, blurry figures shimmered into view. She vaguely remembered the older one – he whispered something, back in the bowels of the Colosseum, after buying her. She struggled to remember what he said, but couldn't quite grasp it.

The younger man, clearly a relation of some sort, stayed slightly further back. He was playing with a ring on his finger, and his eyes looked steadfastly at the grass, the sky, the old man. She tried to catch his gaze, but even when he looked her way, his eyes seemed unfocused.

She could feel the familiar, comforting surge of adrenaline pumping her heart faster, her senses sharpening. She rose, feeling a small twinge of regret at the feeling of weakness in her muscles. _How long was I unconscious for? _she thought, keeping her expression neutral. Cautiously, her head lifted high, she walked to the edge of her cage, looking the old man in the eye. He was evidently the one with the authority here – the younger one just looked sick.

She tilted her head to the side, absorbing as many details as possible. The old man appeared to have no wand, but she eyed the cane he leaned on warily. He was definitely no feeble, helpless elder; power practically dripped from his pores. He resembled an ancient king, with long, silver hair loose around his shoulders, and a clean-shaven, aristocratic face.

She also noted the slightly trembling hand, the sweaty brow and thick furs, and concluded that he must be suffering from some sort of illness. Massive rings adorned every finger – one made a _tap tap tap _on the silver serpent-headed cane as he watched her.

The younger continued to fidget, looking straight above her head, attempting to appear calm as he sweat profusely. She briefly wondered if his charade was fooling the old one, but doubted it.

A part of her murmured that he was very handsome, but that part was buried deep under layers formed by months of violence and death. Nonetheless, an old whisper of hope spoke enticingly in her ear, telling her that this one, he's not enjoying this. He doesn't want to do what all the others have done. But then she looked back to the old man, still confidently tapping at his cane, his eyes narrowed shrewdly, and wondered if any of that mattered at all.

The old one started to talk. "Ah, how nice of you to join us, Miss…hmm, I seem to have forgotten your name. Kindly indulge an old man, dear?"

She blinked slowly, processing his question. After a pause, she let the wolf within her take over, a low growl forming in her throat. She'd been through this enough times that she knew not answering wouldn't exactly help, but a twisted side of her was curious to see how far she could get.

Not very far, it would seem.

The old man hardly seemed fazed, but a flicker of annoyance passed over his face. "That won't do, Lucius, now will it?" The younger one nodded jerkily, his eyes still on the ground. "Obedience is very important to me, young lady. _Expulso!_"

Her body was lifted in the air, and for a split second, she marveled at its weightlessness – until she slammed backwards into the iron bars. At one time, she might've screamed, or whined in pain. But now, she's experienced far worse, many times, and knew that her body would heal quickly. She slowly rose while the old man asked again for her name.

"Rionach," she rasped. The two men exchanged a few more words, then the younger loudly announced, "Dobby!"

_Is this one of their magic words?_ She looked around cautiously, and when a loud _pop! _cracked through the air beside her, she flinched, reflexes on edge. The strangest creature appeared, about three feet tall, with massive, floppy ears, a long pointed nose, and wearing a filthy pillowcase. Looking down at the clean sheet she'd been wrapped in, the girl made a mental note that not all wizards' pets seem to be treated the same.

The creature appeared to be some sort of servant that could disappear and pop back at will. It returned with a silver pitcher and three goblets, which displeased the old man greatly – it would seem that he would like to make sure everyone in his home knew their place. They get the family silver; the animals get the wood – from the werewolf's lips to the fire. He whacked his servant for his mistake, and a distant feeling of pity streaked through Rionach, catching her off-guard. She didn't know that she could still feel pity.

"Reward your pet, Lucius," the old man said, and the pale, blond boy moved forward to hand her the wooden cup, their fingertips momentarily touching. So, this one was Lucius. _Lucius. Latin. Meaning Light. _

Rionach froze, absorbing this tiny fragment as it drifted through her mind. Every once in a while, images, words or songs would float back to her, as if, somewhere in the back of her mind, a tiny version of herself was gagged, hands and feet bound, and every once in a while, she managed to speak through the tape across her mouth, slowly helping the werewolf put the puzzle of her past back together. Rionach waited to see if anything else would surface, but the bound girl was silent once again. Her mind returned to the real world, where her fingertips were still touching his.

A warm breeze blew her hair in her face and carried over the scent of the old man. The pungent smell forced her memory, and she suddenly remembered what he said to her that morning in her cell. He'd leaned forward, so close, she could smell him, so strongly that she would have gagged if she wasn't paralyzed. The wolf within her recoiled at the sickly sweet odour, like decaying fruit. His hair had tickled her face as he said, softly, "I know your secret."

She had looked at him, because there was nothing else she could do, and he had leaned in even closer. "You're not broken, are you? I've looked into the eyes of a beast with a broken mind, but you…you would bring your sanity to the grave, because that is all you have left. You may have Pettigrew fooled into thinking he has a perfectly trained, obedient pet that will snap at anyone, but I know you are so much more than that. And I intend to use you to your fullest potential."

He was right. She'd felt her heart sink deep into her belly. Her precious secret, the one thing that she had guarded fiercely and above all else, was exposed to this stranger as if he'd taken a knife and ripped her soul inside out. That little part of humanity left inside her, that she had hidden by allowing the wolf within to take over whenever she needed her, suddenly felt so vulnerable.

She had realized, when this new life began, that for some reason, she desperately wanted to live, so her mind had become her sanctuary as she learned to let the beast take all of the pain and violence unto herself, even when not transformed, so that she, Rionach, could sit back and watch from afar, retaining her sanity.

When she regained control of her limbs, the old man had imperiously swept away without a backwards glance. The younger one, though, had hesitated, and for the first time in months, she saw something flicker in his eyes, something that was there now. Not quite pity, not quite fear. She couldn't place it, and as he stood there beneath the Colosseum, she had let the wolf bait him, licking the bar of her prison, watching for a reaction. He'd stepped back, startled, and a haunted look settled in his eyes that she now recognized – self-loathing. He'd walked away as fast as he could. She watched him leave, the horror he was feeling so thick she could almost taste it.

In the present, the same boy withdrew his hand, and then wiped it on his shirt. _Is he cleaning himself after touching me? _she wondered. But there'd been no disgust in his eyes as there was with the others who usually handled her. Perhaps he was trying to rid himself of a different feeling.

Now, the old one seemed to be teaching Lucius how to do new magic. Rionach watched them curiously. She'd never seen any of them learning about it before. Their movements were so precise and graceful. An image of a delicate ballerina, pirouetting across a wooden stage, dressed as a black swan drifted through her mind. Was this a clue? She looked down at her frail arms, trying to picture them held gracefully above her head. Was she a dancer, once?

She had little time to ponder this latest hint, as a flash of blue light erupted in front of her, causing her to fall to her knees, holding her head, she could hardly breathe, it felt like needles were twisting through her eye sockets, and a hideous noise was piercing her ears which she vaguely recognized as her own screams…

When it ended she slumped forward, an instant, ferocious headache ripping through her skull, but otherwise fine. She continued to lie there – in the past, pretending to be unconscious had allowed a certain amount of reprieve – and heard the old man wheezing while the younger sounded concerned. It appeared that magic could be gruelling, as if it pulled something out of the wielder, though she also wondered if the tremors and layers of clothing had anything to do with his exhausted state.

With a _pop! _the little servant returned. The girl flinched slightly in surprise, and within seconds, instead of emerald grass beneath her feet, she felt cool tiles. She cracked open an eye, and then jumped back with a snarl as two massive, yellow eyes blinked back at her about an inch away from her face.

"Oh! Dobby is sorry Miss, Dobby no mean to scare you!" The creature was quivering, eyes wide and glassy. She realized belatedly that she was crouching defensively with a hand raised in a claw shape.

She checked her surroundings; she was in an incredibly large bathroom, though judging from what she'd been able to see of the house from outside, this was probably one of the least lavish. Without turning away from the Dobby critter, she steped sideways and tried the door, but though the handle turned, it wouldn't open. She'd assumed as much, but still always tried, an old habit.

"Miss cannot leave," the Dobby was saying, appearing sad. "Miss must clean herself and then Dobby will bring Miss back to the dungeon with some food."

She allowed herself to relax slightly. Whatever other dangers were about, this creature didn't seem to be one of them. She looked over at the tub with longing. Before leaving Pettigrew's possession, she was hosed down and given the new sheet, but hadn't experienced a real bath in months. She wanted to jump in immediately, but instead ventured a question, unsure when the next chance to actually talk to someone – or something – would be.

"Can I ask…what are you?"

The creature beamed up at her, seemingly happy that she was asking questions instead of preparing to pounce. "I is a house elf Miss! I serve House Malfoy. Dobby is my name Miss."

"Oh…" I process this information carefully. "So…you're a servant for this...family?" The word _family_ rolled off her tongue thickly. It was a word she hand't used in a very long time.

"Yes, Miss. I will always serve the Malfoys," he mumbled, looking down.

"You must be very loyal," she stated carefully, still unsure of who, or what, she was dealing with.

Dobby continued to stare at the tiles. "Oh no Miss, Dobby has no choice. Dobby is bound to his masters."

Perhaps they had more in common than she realized. "You have no choice, then. Like me."

Dobby nodded gravely. "Yes, Miss. I mean, no, Miss! Dobby is very proud to serve such a noble and pure House, of course. Dobby is very grateful to his masters."

Rionach sighed, dropping her gaze. "Well now that's settled, will you leave while I wash? It's…been a long time, since I've had…privacy."

"Of course, Miss! Dobby will return in an hour." He raiseed a tiny hand as if to snap his fingers, but pauseed, looking straight up at her. "Dobby knows Miss has done some terrible things, and terrible things have happened to Miss. But Miss is strong, Dobby can see that. Young Master is strong too, but not as strong as Miss, and he is good, but Old Master Malfoy is trying to take all the good away! Miss has to-" At this last, the elf clapped his hands over his mouth, grabbed a hairbrush from the side of the sink, and started hitting himself as hard as he could on his head.

She froze, unsure if she should step forward to stop the elf. She hadn't voluntarily touched anyone else in a long time, and the way he popped in and out of spaces made her nervous. She decided to wait it out, back in her crouching position. He finished eventually, carefully putting the brush back near the sink.

"Uh – what…was that?" she asked as Dobby straightened the filthy pillowcase and turned back to face her.

"Dobby mustn't speak ill of Master Malfoy. Dobby must punish himself for his words," he answered. He stopped, and seemed to listen for something, though she could hear nothing. "Dobby is being summoned, Miss. Be back for Miss in one hour!" He snapped his fingers, and with the now familiar _pop!,_ vanished.

Once alone, Rionach shivered slightly, and despite the longing for the bath, she hesitated at the edge of the tub. It felt like a trick, this small kindness. She feared that by falling for it, she would be forced to let something else go. She noticed a flash of movement in the corner of her eye, and froze, her breath slowing, heart pumping faster. Her eyes flicked to the side, and she let out a long breath – in the mirror, she saw her own reflection.

She took a cautious step closer to the mirror. She had seen her reflection, once, when she was first captured, so she had an idea of how she looked, but now that she could actually study herself, she realized why the Lucius boy had tried so hard to avoid looking directly at her.

Aside from the general filth that stained her skin, and massive knots in her hair, her face was absolutely terrifying. The angles in her cheekbones, nose and chin were scarily sharp, her eyebrows nearly non-existent, and the spattering of freckles across her cheeks blended with the dirt. Small white scars were everywhere – her chin, cheeks, neck, hands.

The worst, though, was the scar that started just below her nose, above the left corner of her lip, dragging her mouth up slightly, traveling all the way up to her right temple. That scar, along with the blood that she had barely noticed drying under her nose, made her positively grotesque.

Slivers of a story come to her then; about a bell ringer, hideously deformed, locked away from society. She frowned, wondering, how could she know this story? How does it end? Did someone tell her the story, or did she find it on her own? The questions were useless.

She reached up and touched her face gingerly. She placed a hand over the worst part of the scar, above her mouth, but that didn't help much. With a sigh, she turned back to the decision at hand, and elected to take the bath. She obviously needed it, and whatever trials would await her later, she would deal with them then.

Once the water was prepared and she'd lowered herself into the massive tub, she started the task of scrubbing months of prison dirt, sweat and blood off of her skin. There was soap that smelled like lemons and a scrubbing stone of some sort, so she went to work, until her skin ended up pink and raw.

Next, she moved onto her hair. She washed it over and over, then took a plain wooden comb that was next to the hair brush Dobby had punished himself with, and started working through the knots and tangles.

After the tresses were fairly smooth, her fingers began to braid the heavy mane, the rhythm strangely soothing. She couldn't remember braiding before, but her hands moved of their own accord, evoking comforting memories that she struggled to grasp, but blew away, like a feather in the wind, before becoming clear. Another shard from a broken memory.

As she finished adjusting the braid, the _pop! _cracked beside the tub and without thinking she leapt out, a low growl deep in her throat, pinning the creature to the ground by the neck. She saw his big, yellow eyes widen for a split second before she was thrown back across the bathroom, her back hitting a metal towel bar. She crumpled onto the tile floor, looking up at the little elf in shock.

Dobby crossed his arms, shaking his finger at her. "Miss must learn to control herself," he reprimanded. She continued to stare, still amazed that such a tiny being managed to throw her so far. "Dobby is bringing Miss something to wear."

He took a few steps towards her, holding out the black robe in his hand, thought better of it, and placed the garment on the edge of the tub, before stepping back. He turned aside to presumably give her some privacy, though it seemed rather pointless at this point considering she tackled him completely naked.

She moved forward and took the robe, inwardly melting at the feel of the velvety fabric. She crossed it over her body and tied the rope around her waist, the action flowing naturally, though she had yet to wear real clothes at all in this life. _My body remembers more than I do, it seems._

"Dobby will take Miss to her room now," the elf warned. Rionach braced herself as he stepped forward to grab her arm. With a _pop!_ the bathroom disappeared, and they were standing in her new "room," another word for "prison cell," apparently. The elf disappears as quickly as he arrived, leaving her to take in her new surroundings alone.

All things considered, it was one of the nicer cells she'd inhabited. The floor was smooth concrete instead of dirt, the ceilings low but dry, and there didn't seem to be any rodents or insects around, although the rats tend to avoid her anyway. They can smell the wolf. A small cot is in the left corner, with a side table holding a tray of food to its right. An alcove is dug into the right corner, revealing a toilet, sink and towel.

Rionach sat on the bed and ate the food, which, after quickly realizing how hungry she was, was devoured in seconds. With a full belly, her body reminded her of how tired she was, so she made a small nest on the bed with the thin blanket and pillow, curling up in a ball. In seconds, she fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

* * *

_Lucius_

He sat on the bottom stair leading down to the werewolf's cell, watching her sleep. He'd woken from his faceless nightmares again, and after trying to read for an hour, found himself wandering the Manor, eventually heading into the dungeon. He'd told himself that all he wanted was one quick glance to make sure everything was in order, but now he sat, the minutes ticking by, listening to the steady breaths of the red-haired girl.

A tiny window cut into the top of the right wall threw starlight down onto the sleeping girl, and as he watched, she buried her face further into her arm, and whimpered lightly in her sleep. At first, he wondered what she might be dreaming, but stopped himself as his mind drifted back to the events in the arena. He didn't want to dwell too much on the horrors that she had likely endured.

She rolled over slightly, and Lucius held his breath, but she was only shifting in her sleep. No longer whimpering, a tiny, delicate smile spread over her scarred face. He couldn't help but marvel that this creature, whose past was only filled with violence, could still look so peaceful as she slept. His musings turned dark, though, as he remembered why she was here, and he suddenly hoped that no matter what his father did, that she might still find some escape in her dreams. No matter what _he _did.

The girl shifted again, and Lucius took that as his cue to leave. He had no idea what he'd say if she woke up. As he left, he didn't notice one eye slitting open faintly, watching him trudge back up the stairs.


	4. Chapter IV

**Chapter Four - The Turning Point**

* * *

_Prince Ivan climbed over the wall and saw the attic.  
__And, just as the wolf had said, in the attic window a golden cage was hanging,  
__And the firebird was in the cage.  
__He took out the bird and put it under his coat.  
__But as he looked at the golden cage he could not help coveting it.  
__It was made of precious gold; how could he leave it behind?_

From **The Firebird** by Igor Stravinsky

* * *

**August 31****st****, 1969 – Waning Gibbous Moon  
****Nott Estate, Lacock, Wiltshire**

_Lucius_

The orchards behind the Nott Estate were splendidly decorated, strings of tiny white lights wrapping around every tree and enchanted, glowing dragonflies hovering in the warm evening air. A silver fountain shaped as a beautiful enchantress, a serpent coiling about her bare leg, erupted sparkling water that shimmered in the starlight. Platters of hors d'oeuvres whisked weightlessly around the party-goers, and a champagne pyramid was constantly refilling itself. Lucius had to admit, Midas Nott had a mother with impeccable taste.

"This party is bloody boring," Eldred muttered beside him, taking off his glasses and polishing them rigorously.

Lucius snorted. "You really have no appreciation for the finer things in life."

"Oh I have plenty of appreciation for pretty fountains and party decorations," his friend replied huffily. "I just think it's a bit of a waste of money if all you're going to do is stand around and stare at each other all evening."

Lucius leaned in, whispering conspiratorially, "Not at each other, idiot. They're all checking out Fiorenza Zabini. Looks like someone grew up over the summer." He gestured to the tall, dark haired girl with slanted violet eyes who was pretending to listen to whatever Midas was babbling on about, but in reality was preening shamelessly as she soaked in the stares of every male present.

"Your newest conquest, I assume?" Eldred asked casually, replacing his glasses.

"Fee? Hardly. I don't like dating anyone prettier than me," he answered truthfully.

His friend grinned, nudging him in the side. "Oh? Is Lucius Malfoy – dare I say – _jealous _of all the attention Miss Zabini is receiving? Hurting your chances of being featured on the cover of Witch Weekly this year? Scared she'll hog the mirror in the common room to-"

The dark-haired wizard stopped his questioning as a glass of champagne was suddenly emptied on his head. "That was mature," he muttered, grabbing a napkin from a nearby table while the blond smirked at his own prank. "I spent hours doing my hair you know."

"And that's what you came up with?" Lucius asked in mock horror. "No wonder the witches aren't lining up for a chance with you." He earned a playful punch from his friend, who, despite still dripping champagne everywhere, was grinning ear to ear.

"It's my fault I said I was bored I suppose," he said, cleaning his glasses again.

"You said it," Lucius replied, shrugging.

"Oh by the way, how was Rome?" Eldred asked, grabbing another napkin.

Lucius's face darkened, but he tried to sound casual. "It was…um…educational," he finished lamely. "My father was mostly busy with meetings, so I spent time checking out the sites."

Despite Eldred's best friend status, Lucius shared as little as he could about his family's darker activities, particularly when they involved magical creatures. His friend was obsessed with vampires, and to a lesser extent, centaurs, giants and werewolves. He wrote the Daily Prophet almost weekly complaining about the oppressive legislations that continued to be put in place in the Department of Magical Creatures, and would certainly be appalled to find out that his own friend had a pet werewolf in the Manor's dungeon.

"Checked out the sites, did you?" Eldred was asking, his brow furrowed. "How was the Uffizi gallery? I've always wanted to go."

"Charming," Lucius murmured, his thoughts distracting him. "Ow! What was that for? You hit the same spot!" he yelled at his friend, who had punched him in the arm again.

"The Uffizi gallery is in Florence," Eldred replied, rolling his eyes. "If you weren't sight-seeing, what were you doing?"

Lucius opened his mouth to give some sort of made up reply, but was luckily saved by the appearance of a tall, blonde witch with a sharp face striding towards them. He groaned inwardly. Narcissa Black was very pretty, when she wasn't looking like she had something very unpleasant under her nose, and while he knew the chance of them being married someday was high, he saw her more as a rather unpleasant chore that he'd have to tackle eventually. Not to mention that it somewhat irked him that the look of disgust on her face seemed to deepen every time his best friend was around.

"Uh – hey, uh, Narcissa!" Eldred stuttered, turning bright pink. She stared at him blankly, then averted her attention to Lucius, who winced slightly on his friend's behalf.

"Lucius, I've been looking for you everywhere. This party is so dull," she pouted. When Lucius shrugged and reached over to fill his glass, her gaze flicked back to his companion. "What happened to you…apologies, what's your name again?" she asked, taking in the other boy's wet appearance.

"Oh that's my fault," Lucius hastily cut in, calling over one of the adults so they could perform a drying spell on his friend. "Clumsy me."

"W-worple! El…Eldred Worple," the once again dry wizard spluttered, turning a darker shade of pink. He nervously tugged at the collar of the new shirt Lucius had purchased for him the day before, and opened his mouth to say something else, but closed it again and stared at the ground.

Narcissa raised a sophisticated eyebrow and turned back to Lucius. "My mother is already hinting that she wants to leave. Ever since the Sister-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named pulled her stunt, she's been spending as little time as possible in society."

Lucius paused before speaking, waiting to see if Eldred would come up with something to say, but when his friend continued to study his shoes, he replied, "My parents and I were sorry to hear of your loss. She's been disowned, I assume?"

The young woman snorted indelicately. "You need to ask?"

"Who's been disowned?" a husky, feminine voice interrupted. The three teenagers turned as the beautiful Fiorenza Zabini waltzed up to them. The silver dress she wore clung to her waist and neck, exposing just enough collarbone to be both modest and alluring. Three jaws dropped as she lazily pulled out a small black fan and started airing herself, tendrils of black hair fluttering across her face.

Lucius was the first to get a hold of himself. "You haven't heard? Andromeda Black married some Muggle-born lowlife."

"Oh, _that_. Yes, I'd heard. Such a pity. Apparently the man wasn't rich, or even handsome. What on earth would be the point?" Fiorenza replied, sighing. Lucius snorted, while Eldred gave Narcissa a pained look.

Narcissa was looking at the other witch like she'd just admitted to drowning kittens in the lake. She turned back to the boys with a sniff. "Anyway, I should go…I'll see you at school, Lucius…Worple, Zabini," she added, her lip curling in distaste at the last two names, which Eldred missed as he was still studiously inspecting his shoes, and Fiorenza ignored.

When the witch was gone, Lucius smacked his friend on the arm. "What the hell was that, Worple? Weren't you supposed to do your grand move?"

His friend shrugged, rubbing his arm. "Wasn't the right time," he mumbled.

Lucius rolled his eyes skyward. "Merlin help me, I'm friends with a wizard who would jump headfirst into a herd of angry centaurs, but bring over one little girl and his brain turns into flubberworms."

"Hey!" Eldred protested, but at the glare his friend shot him he muttered, "That's insulting to flubberworms."

"Quite," Lucius agreed. At Fiorenza's raised eyebrow, he added, "Eldred was planning on asking Narcissa to Hogsmeade today."

Eldred gave his friend a mortified look as the girl rolled her eyes. "Honestly, Worple, your little infatuation is practically common knowledge."

Lucius chuckled into his glass.

Fiorenza stepped back and gave Eldred a long, appraising look. "While the glasses and bewildered expression give you a certain…charm," she smirked before continuing, "You're certainly not anywhere near attractive enough to woo a Black daughter on looks alone, so I would recommend choosing a career that makes plenty of money. Or, marry an heiress, wait for her to die, and _then _pursue Narcissa." She shrugged at the horrified expression on Eldred's face. "I honestly don't think you have any other options."

Eldred covered his face with his hands, mumbling, "I'm doomed," into them before grabbing a glass of champagne and throwing it back in one go.

"Fee, I think dear Eldred and I might need to have a little…private chat," Lucius said, keeping an eye on the other wizard as he reached for more alcohol.

"Of course. I think it's time for me to go anyway. This little exchange has been the most interesting thing to happen all night, and I daresay that's rather depressing. See you boys on the train," she finished, giving a small wave with her fan before sauntering off.

Seeing the wretched expression on the other wizard's face, Lucius grabbed a bottle of champagne and nudged Eldred's side with his elbow. "You were right, this party is boring. Too many adults and all the girls are leaving. New plan. Let's floo back to yours and get sloshed."

Eldred shook his head. "Both parents are home right now, and Dad's in one of his moods."

Lucius hesitated, but made up his mind at the continued look of misery on his friend's face. "We'll go back to the Manor then. It's not far from here; if we walk, we can drink this on the way, and hang out by the river near the grounds."

"Really? You sure your parents won't mind?" Eldred asked hopefully.

Lucius frowned slightly at the other boy's reaction. He knew it wasn't the champagne his friend was asking about. He'd never invited him over before, and for good reason. The last thing he needed was for the overly clumsy wizard to stumble into an artefact riddled with dark magic that would make his nails fall out, or get lost and wander through the dungeons to see the guests that happened to be there.

Anytime Eldred had hinted at maybe spending time at Lucius's home instead, Lucius had shrugged him off, usually blaming his parents, which wasn't all lies. His mother had no opinion, but his father, though not necessarily against the friendship, also wouldn't be particularly enthralled with the poor, unrefined boy poking around his mansion.

On the other hand, this really was an exception. "It's a warm night, so we'll just stay outside. You can floo home before they wake up. Good?" Eldred nodded, grinning. "All right. Let's go drown our sorrows. You know what, grab a second bottle."

Following his orders, Eldred grabbed some more champagne and went after Lucius to the front gates, too preoccupied to think to ask the other boy why he'd said _our _sorrows.

* * *

**Malfoy Manor, Lacock, Wiltshire**

Nearly an hour later, two young wizards stumbled through the gates to Malfoy Manor, holding each other for support, cigarettes dangling from their mouths. The evening air was thick, and the Manor loomed before them, grand and imposing.

"This isssss yer house?" Eldred slurred, the cigarette falling from his mouth as he gaped open-mouthed at the mansion. "I knew you had money, but Salazar's balls, Malfoy…"

Lucius's nose wrinkled at the crass expression, and he attempted to straighten so he could properly look down his nose at the somewhat shorter boy, faltering only slightly. "I _told _you I was filthy rich, idiot."

Eldred's eyes crossed a little as he slumped further forward without a shoulder to lean on. "_Everyone _knows you're filthy rich, princess. It's jus' different seeing it, s'all," he muttered, a dark look passing through his eyes that Lucius didn't notice. He went to take a sip from his champagne bottle, but let out a disappointed snort at finding it empty before smashing it against the gate.

"Shhh! What'd you do that for?" Lucius hissed as he steadied himself against the bars.

"S'empty," Eldred mumbled, trying to balance himself, but instead falling forward onto the grass. Lucius chuckled despite himself, and went over to help the other wizard.

"You're rubbish at holding your champagne, Worple," Lucius stated. "Come on, the river's this way. And I'll push you in if you make any more noise," he threatened.

The Malfoy heir led his friend to the left of the main entrance, towards the trees that bordered the grounds. Once under cover of the foliage, Eldred pushed away from him, shooting the blond an accusing stare. "Yer not as drunk as me, you git!" he said huffily, leaning against a tree.

"I'm plenty drunk," Lucius replied, wavering backwards as proof. He leaned against his own tree. "Just better at keeping it together than you, obviously."

Eldred looked up at him, his brow furrowing as if trying to work something through in his head. "Spend a lot of time hangin' onto control, Malfoy?"

"That's a strange question," Lucius replied slowly, the words feeling thick on his tongue. He tried to come up with something else to say, but his brain felt foggy.

His friend shrugged, slumping further down on his tree. "More of a statement, really." He paused. "What happened in Rome, Lucius?"

"I-I told you," Lucius stammered. "My father had meetings. I saw the city."

"You're _lying_," Eldred insisted. "Something happened. You've been all…" he threw up his hands to show how he thought Lucius had been acting, "weird, since you got back. What's goin' on?"

A piercing headache was forming above the bridge of Lucius's nose, and he pinched the spot, looking at the ground. "Why is this so important to you?"

"I'm a Slytherin. I lie _all_ the time and hate being lied to. We're a bunch o' hypocrites. Now tell me, or I'll go running through your _precious_ Manor to find whatever it is you don't want me lookin' at." Eldred crossed his arms and planted his legs apart, wavering only slightly, showing the other boy how unwilling he was to move until he got his answers.

"What if whatever I'm hiding isn't in the Manor?" Lucius bit back, instantly regretting the words.

"Ha! There is something," Eldred gloated. His tone turned softer at his next words, and he spoke slowly, trying not to slur. "I'm your friend, Lucius. You've been twitchy and red-eyed since you got back from your trip. I'm worried about you."

Lucius looked up at him, a pained expression on his face. "I can't tell you, Eldred."

"Can't, or won't?" the other boy asked shortly.

"Both," he replied honestly. "I can't because…well, because my entire family could spend time in Azkaban if you went to the Ministry." Eldred started to protest, but Lucius held up a hand to silence him. "Even if you didn't, if my father found out you knew…let's just say, that's probably the worst that could happen." He sighed, and hesitated before continuing.

"Not good enough," Eldred said abruptly. "I've always known your family's up to illegal activities – hell, I'm sure all of wizarding Britain knows. Never stopped your father before. Why won't you tell me?"

Lucius remained silent.

"Is it because…I'm not really a friend to you? Is that it?" Eldred took the other boy's continued silence as confirmation and angrily raised his voice. "What, now I'm not _good enough _for you to share anything? I'm your friend as long as I'm useful; you stay at my house, drink my firewhiskey, order me around, but when it comes to real friendship, I'm too…insignificant for the rich, stick-up-his-arse Malfoy heir?"

"Oh, bloody hell, Worple!" Lucius finally yelled, exasperated. "It's because, I'm afraid that if I tell you, you won't want to be _my _friend anymore!" He turned away from the other wizard and stared up at the few stars he could see poking through the treetops. "I don't have anyone else," he added softly.

Eldred was quiet now, and walked over to where Lucius stood, tilting his gaze upwards along with the blond. "You can tell me anything," he said quietly. They both shot each other awkward glances when the other wasn't looking, suddenly embarrassed at the display of emotion as the alcohol started to wear off.

Lucius dug his cigarettes out of his pocket, and offered one to Eldred. The other boy took it, and the two lit their smokes and continued to stand in silence. After several long minutes, Lucius finally said, "My father took me to the Colosseum."

Eldred raised his eyebrows. "That doesn't sound too traumatizing…?"

"You misunderstand…" Lucius's voice trailed off, and he cleared his throat before continuing. "The Colosseum is still being used for its…original purpose." At his friend's confused expression, Lucius sighed. "Wizards buy tickets and place bets on, well, gladiators. Werewolf gladiators, to be exact. Though sometimes other magical creatures are involved."

Eldred's mouth fell open. "You were at a werewolf fight? I've read about those – I thought they'd been completely wiped out, apparently I have a few book editors to send Howlers to – but Lucius, those are supposed to be beyond brutal to watch. Your father just let you…tag along? No warning?"

"I don't need your pity," Lucius snapped, though he softened slightly at his friend's hurt look. "Look…that's not all. Ah, try not to get too angry." At the other wizard's nod, Lucius took a deep breath while flicking away his cigarette. "My father may have…purchased…a new pet, during our travels. A new pet…for me," he finished, wincing at the enraged expression on his friend's face.

"You…you have a werewolf PET? In your gods damned HOUSE?" the other wizard seethed, hands balling into fists.

"You promised not to get angry," Lucius reminded him, though his words were lost as his friend started shouting.

"YOU'RE KEEPING A WEREWOLF LOCKED UP IN _THAT_?" he bellowed, pointing in the direction of the Manor.

"Apparently," Lucius replied, eyes narrowing as he looked at his friend coolly. "See, this is why I didn't want to tell you. Figured you'd start screaming like a banshee and go all righteous Gryffindor on me."

"You don't have to be in Gryffindor to realize that enslaving a living creature for your own entertainment is sick," Eldred snapped, and Lucius visibly flinched at his words.

"It's not like I have a fucking choice!" he yelled back. "My father bought the beast before I could even blink, telling me that somehow _I'm _supposed to train her and get her ready to fight and everything, and then he set up this huge cage and started practicing curses on her and it was awful and I had to just stand there, because what else was I supposed to do? Have you met my father? Wait, no, you haven't, but let me tell you, he could perform the killing curse in his sleep! What would you have me DO?" At the end of his tirade, he realized that Eldred was staring at him with those pity-filled eyes again, and he angrily turned to stomp away.

"Lucius – wait!" Eldred yelled. Lucius stopped, and leaned against a tree again, the combination of alcohol, emotion and breathlessness getting the better of him. "You can't just leave her here," Eldred said quietly.

The Malfoy heir shrugged dejectedly, his back still to the other boy. "What else can I do?"

"You should set her free," was the instant response.

Lucius laughed mirthlessly. "She's a Muggle with no memories. How far do you think she'd get before being scooped back up and returned to the Manor? Well, we can always hope she'll die first. That would be preferable to whatever punishment my father would have planned."

"Then…we'll take her somewhere they'd never think of," Eldred tried, and Lucius whirled on him.

"Didn't you hear me? She's a _Muggle _werewolf. All right, so we somehow manage to bring her to some untraceable island in the Caribbean. How long before she starts eating all its inhabitants? How long before she finally drives herself completely insane? Do you really think that would be better than her current fate?"

"You could bring her to Hogwarts," his friend hesitantly offered, pushing his glasses to the top of his head and rubbing his eyes.

Lucius shook his head. "In what? I can't just walk onto the train with her, she looks…different. She'd attract too much attention. And how do we get her past my father? And how would we keep her anonymous once at school? Dumbledore seems to know everything. Pretty sure an extra student with a scratched up face and a tendency to attack everyone out of nowhere won't escape his notice."

Eldred set his glasses back on his nose and started pacing back and forth between the trees. "If she came on the train with me, she'd be a lot less noticeable. No one pays attention to me. We could maybe wrap a scarf around her head or something – it would look weird, but if we keep away from the Prefect car, we might be able to avoid too many questions."

His eyes flicked over to Lucius for encouragement, but upon receiving none, continued forming his plan. "Once we're on the train we can use magic, so I could put a Disillusionment charm on her – I figured that one out last year when I was skipping Potions, remember? Anyway, that won't fool the wards on the school grounds, but if we're quick enough and get off the train with everybody else, there might be enough people around to confuse them temporarily."

Lucius was looking at his friend as if he'd been hit on the head with something very heavy. "Even if this insane plan of yours worked, Worple, what are we supposed to do once we get to Hogwarts? Keep her on a leash for ten months? What about my father, think he'll be pleased to hear his new purchase has made the great escape? Also, your plan hinges on the assumption that the girl will be a willing participant, an assumption that I am quite positive you're wrong about."

The other boy continued pacing between the trees, muttering things that Lucius had a hard time catching. "Is this what he meant…Yes, this is what it's for. But now? No…there isn't very much, what if it's wrong? There's no other way though…"

Eldred suddenly came to an abrupt halt. "I know what to do," he said confidently, pulling a tiny vial containing a pure gold liquid from his pocket. "I found this in my dad's desk this morning."

Lucius stared at the vial in shock. "Eldred," he breathed, eyes locked on the swirling potion. "That's-

"Felix Felicis," the other wizard stated proudly. "Enough for twelve hours of luck!"

Lucius's eyebrows knit together as he looked from his friend and back to the potion again. "How…how did you even recognize it? That's a really advanced potion, and you're hardly ever in class!"

"I pay attention when I think it's interesting," Eldred, replied, shrugging.

"But how come your father had it? And won't he be angry when-"

"That's not important," Eldred said firmly, cutting him off. "What's important is that we have it, and now we can use it."

"I still don't get-" Lucius started, but Eldred cut him off again.

"Lucius! You can't leave the poor creature in the Manor with your father. You really think you could live with the blood on your hands? You're not as tough or cruel as you pretend to be. So, have you got a better plan?" Eldred crossed his arms and stared pointedly at him.

"All right," Lucius said, frowning. "Which one of us should take the potion? I need it to deal with my Father, you need it if you're bringing her with you, and we both need it once we arrive at school."

"Hmm…I think you might need it more than me, considering the rumours I've heard about your father. My parents should be gone in the morning – I usually floo to the platform – the only tricky bit is getting her to, as you say, come willingly," Eldred replied thoughtfully. "What about a forgetfulness potion? She'll just be sort of confused and might be easier to bring with us."

"What's with all the brilliant potion ideas all of a sudden?" Lucius grumbled, pinching the bridge of his nose to try and keep the headache forming at bay.

"That's a first-year potion," Eldred muttered defensively.

Lucius sighed, no longer really caring. "Whatever. That could actually work. We probably don't even have to brew it – we keep a store of all kinds of potions in the dun- ah, cellar." He pulled his silver pocketwatch out and squinted at the elegant face in the starlight. "It's nearly four, so if I take the potion now, it will run out while we're on the train. Think it'll give me some solutions by that time?"

"I'm not sure we have much of a choice," the other boy replied. "If we want to get her out of here unnoticed, we're going to have to do it now while everyone's asleep. I'm not sure all the luck in the world will help you get past an awake Abraxas undetected."

"I'm afraid you're right. I'll leave a few drops in the vial, in case we run into complications at the castle." Eldred nodded. "Well, if it doesn't work, we'll hang out in the Underworld, I suppose."

Eldred grinned, handing over the vial. "Cheers, mate."

Lucius plucked the potion from his friend's hand. "I'm going to regret this in the morning," he muttered, before drinking almost every last drop of liquid luck.

* * *

_Rionach_

She woke to the sound of soft footsteps creeping down the stone stairs to her cell. Keeping her breathing rhythmic and slow, she cracked one eye open as the younger one – _Lucius. Light._ – fumbled with a large key at the door. In the few seconds she had before the cell was opened, she assessed the situation.

He had a friend with him. She wondered if he was there to show off his new pet; the latest exotic attraction for wealthy teenagers. But her mind shifted to when she saw the hurt and self-loathing in his eyes, both the day before on the grounds and a few days prior, beneath the Colosseum, and she decided that couldn't be why he was here.

The other boy was telling him to hurry, they haven't much time. _Time for what?_ A cold feeling crept over her as she considered the things that two young men with a caged pet might attempt, but she stifled that as well. The wolf inside was telling her no, he is not a threat; and she had grown to listen and trust in her.

Regardless of motive, Rionach considered her escape options. She had absolutely no idea where she was. Somewhere in Britain. She remembered what the old man was saying yesterday, that Lucius couldn't use magic because of his age. The other boy seemed to be the same age, but in the dark, she couldn't be sure. She could easily push past them, but then what?

She thought back to when Pettigrew had first started training her, and she had tried to escape on her first night. She bolted easily enough, but some sort of invisible barrier was put up around his house, and the pain was so excruciating she blacked out. She tried again, three times, but again and again she was struck down by the barrier.

Her new owner was no fool, and if she were to pass out during an escape attempt, she feared what may come later. The old man knew her secret; she didn't doubt that he could use it to slink within her mind and destroy her from the inside out.

She decided to wait. The boys were arguing in hushed voices, but her wolf hearing managed to pick out the words easily enough. It seemed that they wanted to give her a potion of some sort, but couldn't decide who should approach her.

"_You're _the one who knows all about werewolves – you go pour it down her throat!" Lucius was whispering furiously. The other boy shook his head.

"But _you're _the one with all the luck! And besides, this is _your_ pet, you get to make this right!"

_Make this right?_ A strange, light feeling unfurled in her stomach, and after a moment, she realize that it must be hope. She kept her eyes shut, eager to learn more.

"Maybe we don't need a sleeping potion," Lucius was saying hopefully. "She's already asleep, and Felix isn't telling me to give it to her, so…"

The other boy sighed impatiently. "I don't care what Felix is telling you. She's a bloody werewolf. She'll wake up the second you're beside her. I'm surprised she hasn't woken up already."

Rionach heard someone approaching, then felt warm breath on her face as Lucius listened to her breathe. She could smell cigarettes, alcohol, and lemons. Something cool and hard touched her lips, causing her eyes to snap open in surprise, bringing her face to face with her captor. For a second, their eyes locked, his widening in surprise. She noticed he held a glass beaker of some sort - most likely what she felt against her lips - and with a snarl pushed him away with one hand and knocked the beaker out of his grasp with the other, the glass and liquid within smashing across the concrete floor.

Both boys stepped backwards, hands up, terrified expressions on their faces. Lucius kept his eyes fixed on me while the other started fumbling in his pocket, producing his wand. "We don't want to hurt you," he said firmly, wand held high.

Rionach kept her eyes locked on Lucius. "_You _can't use magic," she ventured, watching for reactions.

Lucius shook his head slightly while the other spoke. "We can in self-defense, but we don't want to," he said clearly.

She cocked her head to the side with a sneer, knowing that the way the expression twisted her scar had a rather terrifying effect. "What were you planning on doing with me?" she asked bluntly.

Lucius continued to let the other boy speak for him. She noticed with interest that he hardly registered her face changing, while the other boy looked a bit green. "We want to take you with us to Hogwarts. That's our school. You'll be safe there."

She scratched her face while processing this information. Logically, she felt that she should be asking more questions, acting more defensive and planning her escape. But the wolf was telling her to wait, and deep down, she knew the wolf was right. What choice did she have? And if she did escape, what life could she make for herself? A wolf girl with no memories, no magic, no one to trust.

All she knew were the months that she'd lived with Pettigrew and trained, the wolf within and snippets of memories keeping her sane, telling her to keep fighting, both in the arena and in her mind.

"What was that?" Rionach asked, pointing to the puddle of liquid and broken glass.

"A sleeping potion," the other boy answered. "We were going to keep you asleep until it was time to get on the train, and then give you a forgetfulness potion so you wouldn't act aggressively while we led you onboard. Once you were on the train, I could hide you with a spell. We're allowed to use magic on the train. But since you're awake…" he trailed off hopefully, glancing at Lucius.

"Since I'm awake, you're hoping I'll just walk out with you," Rionach finished. She twisted her face again, deepening the sneer, and this time even Lucius inhaled sharply. "What if I don't want to go with you? What if…all of this…" she gestured around herself, "is all I want? A life where I train, I fight, I win. I die in the arena someday."

"That isn't all you want," Lucius said quietly, speaking for the first time. "You're not the fearless monster you pretend to be."

She froze, staring at him. _So, he is as perceptive as the old man, it would seem._ The wolf within was strangely quiet. "And if I resist?" she asked, already knowing the answer.

"Eldred will put you in a body-bind, and we'll leave you here for my father to play with," Lucius answered coldly.

The old man was his father. A small tug of pity pulled at her stomach, but she ignored it for now. "And what if…your father…finds us before we leave?"

Lucius shrugged. "Then we might as well just slit each other's throats."

Rionach nodded slightly. "Are you still going to give me those potions?"

"We have to," Eldred piped up. "Even if you're willing, we can't take any chances."

"All right," she said reluctantly. Lucius stepped back, then disappeared briefly, leaving Eldred and his wand to guard the girl. She narrowed her eyes at him. "What are _you_ doing here, anyway?"

He looked above her as he spoke. "Lucius told me about you and I convinced him to take you with him. It's thanks to me that you're getting out of this mess."

"Out of this mess?" she snorted. "Sounds to me like I'm trading one cage for another. Yours just sounds a little more…comfortable."

He looked at her thoughtfully, trying to work something out. "I don't understand…" he started, brow furrowed. "You've never known freedom – Lucius told me your memories were wiped when you were captured. But you understand that you're imprisoned, you seem to know a better life is outside of these walls."

Rionach eyed him carefully, wondering how much she should tell. "The poachers took my memories of my family, yes," she said slowly. "And the gaps in my mind mean that there are a lot of pieces of knowledge that don't quite…fit. But I remember having a home. I remember feeling loved. I remember reading, and loving to learn." She paused, unsure how to phrase the next sentence. "I remember there being…more. More than just pain, and bloodshed, and attacking in the arena."

Eldred noded, opening his mouth to say something, but at that moment Lucius returned, holding two of the glass beakers. "You," he says brusquely, pointing his chin at Rionach. "Follow me. Eldred, follow behind. Keep your wand on her."

Rionach followed the Lucius up the stairs and through the servants' quarters. Four of the strange elf creatures were sleeping haphazardly around the kitchen, snoring loudly. She paused, seeing that Dobby was among them, drooling slightly on the counter, a half empty bottle in his right hand.

She had little time to ponder the strange scene, as Eldred's wand gently pushes between her shoulder blades. She quickened her pace to catch up with Lucius. They walked for what seemed to be several minutes – the place was massive – before they were finally standing in front of a huge, stone fireplace, across from what she deduced was the front door.

Lucius thrust one of the beakers towards the girl. "Drink this," he said curtly, not looking her in the eye.

Rionach took the potion from him warily. "This will just make me sleep?"

He noded. "For about six hours. When you start to wake up, Eldred will give you this one," he held up the other beaker, "and it will make you forget where you are and what you're doing. When you're on the train, you'll get another sleeping potion."

Rionach looked at Eldred, who was watching her optimistically, and back at Lucius, whose face was impassive. _I could still run. I could throw this potion back at them, run out that front door, see how far I can get. Maybe live in a forest somewhere, live off the land, sleep under the stars_. There was an appeal to that plan. It was also useless.

So she obediently closed her eyes and drank the potion. The world dripped away, colour running and blurring together, and as she fell she was vaguely aware of Eldred reaching out to catch her before everything turned black.

* * *

_Lucius_

"That was lucky," Eldred said, grinning, as he dragged the unconscious werewolf into the fireplace with him.

Lucius handed him the floo powder, an eyebrow raised. "I told you Felix didn't want to give her the sleeping potion yet."

"Felix was right!" Eldred started to say his address, but paused, looking at his friend. "She still has some memories. She doesn't remember her family or where she's from, but she wasn't completely wiped either. I think…she might be sort of, well, _normal_ one day."

"She's still a werewolf," Lucius snapped. He looked down at the sleeping, scarred face. "I watched her chew the tail off another wolf in the arena. Keep that in mind when you're busy thinking up pet names for your new, 'normal' friend."

Eldred frowned, but then shook his head, a smile creeping over his features. "You did the right thing today, Lucius," he said, before announcing his destination and throwing the floo powder down. In a swirl of green flames, they were gone.

Lucius wrapped his arms around himself. The silence in the Manor felt thick with the girl and Eldred now gone. He vaguely wondered why he didn't feel more elated – he'd read before that Felix Felicis was supposed to fill the drinker with purpose and confidence – but supposed that his anxieties were too great for even Felix to take away.

Now, though, Felix was telling him quite firmly to get a few hours of sleep before dealing with tomorrow. He headed to his quarters and lay on his bed, still fully clothed, and amazingly, within seconds, he drifted into a dreamless sleep.


	5. Chapter V

**Chapter Five – New Beginnings**

* * *

_I shall be telling this with a sigh __  
__Somewhere ages and ages hence: __  
__Two roads diverged in a wood, and I— __  
__I took the one less traveled by, __  
__And that has made all the difference._

From **The Road Not Taken** by Robert Frost

* * *

**September 1****st****, 1969 – Waning Gibbous Moon  
****Aboard the Hogwarts Express**

_Lucius_

He walked over to the window and leaned his forehead against the cool glass, watching the Scottish countryside rush by. His finger was being rubbed raw with the number of times he'd turned his serpent ring over in the past twelve hours.

He tilted his face, forehead still on the window, towards where the werewolf girl was lying, her body blending into her surroundings thanks to the Disillusionment charm Eldred had executed. He was faintly impressed with his friend's talent, and would have said so, but that same friend was slumped against the opposite side of the bench, snoring faintly after their mostly sleepless night.

He could feel the euphoria of Felix ebbing away, and in its place a dark pit of anxiety was forming deep inside him. Slumping back onto the seat opposite the sleeping figures, Lucius replayed the day's events in his mind as his senses sharpened.

After drinking the potion, he'd led Eldred to the kitchens of the Manor, where the house elves guiltily started stuffing bottles of Butterbeer into various drawers and cupboards. Lucius had insisted they wouldn't be punished, as long as they shared their drinks, and within an hour four drunk elves were haphazardly lying around the kitchen. The boys had quickly relieved them of the keys to the werewolf's cell.

Then they'd gone down to the dungeon to find the werewolf girl. When they'd first opened the door, and he'd seen her lying there with that peaceful smile on her face, Felix whispering in his ear that this was exactly where he should be, everything had seemed so right.

He wasn't prepared, though, for the ferocity in her face when she'd awoken. Any hint of beauty she may have possessed while asleep was ripped away as her expression twisted the ugly, jagged scar. She had frightened him, but with Felix and Eldred's encouragement behind him, they'd talked her into coming with them.

Once Eldred and the girl were gone, Lucius had gone to bed for a couple hours, Felix telling him firmly that he would benefit greatly from some sleep. He awoke to a completely chaotic house. The house elves, still drunk from the night before, had made a mess of breakfast, broken two vases, knocked over a bookshelf and misplaced the mail. Abraxas was livid, and had angrily stormed out before Lucius and his Mother left for the train, announcing that the Manor had best be straightened out by the time he returned, or he would be commissioning a new pair of shoes made of elf hides.

As soon as his father was gone, Lucius had walked over to the pile of books that were still in a heap on the floor, his hand hovering over one in particular titled: _Secrets of Hogwarts: A Guide to Scotland's Most Mysterious School_. He flipped through it casually, until a particular passage had caught his eye, only three sentences long:

_**The Room of Hidden Things, also known as, The Room of Requirement:**_

_Though it is unconfirmed, there has been the occasional mention of a strange room at Hogwarts that, legend has it, was created by School Founder Helga Hufflepuff, as a place that would aid any student in need, be they Pureblood, Muggle-born or Half-blood. In modern times, it has been called both The Room of Hidden Things and The Room of Requirement, for, if you pace in front of the room three times, thinking about what it is you require, the room fulfills your wish. The exact location of the room is unknown, but an anonymous source, whose credibility has come into question, cited that the room was located somewhere on the seventh floor._

Lucius had instantly realized that, if this room really did exist, it was exactly what he needed to hide a werewolf in. With the last few drops of Felix Felicis tucked into his pocket, he was sure it could be found.

He leaned forward with his head in his hands. He was refusing to think about what was going to happen when Abraxas found his newly purchased pet missing. Hopefully the house elves would be blamed, and he felt a slight pang of guilt about what would happen to them, but pushed it down. He couldn't save all the magical creatures staying at Malfoy Manor. He still wasn't sure he could save one.

Once at the platform, Lucius had quickly said goodbye to his mother before heading to the station's floo fireplace, and only had to wait a few minutes before Eldred and the girl whirled into view in a haze of green flames.

The girl was clutching the other wizard like her life depended on it, and looked around anxiously, blue eyes wide and confused. Eldred had given her some loose black trousers and a huge gray jumper to wear, with his green and silver scarf to nearly completely hide her face, and the two wizards shielded her with their bodies as they hurriedly stepped into the train, Eldred hastily Disillusioning her as soon as they were on board. Another sleeping potion down her throat, and the girl was sleeping and unseen. The impossible plan had worked.

The sound of the compartment door opening snapped Lucius out of his thoughts, and before he could protest, Fiorenza Zabini had perched herself next to him on the bench. He mentally thanked the gods she hadn't decided to sit opposite him, where an unconscious werewolf lay.

"Lucius! So glad I found you," she said with a sigh. "Ugh, Midas would _not_ stop touching my hair and drooling all over me. I'm going to have to shower and wash these as soon as we're at school," she added, wrinkling her nose as she gestured to her robes.

Lucius barked out a laugh, reminded of his encounter with Eldred's wolfhound. He welcomed the light, casual banter with his friend. For a moment, he let himself forget a scarred, terrifying werewolf was sitting opposite them.

"Well, Fee, if anyone can pull off the saliva-drenched look, it's you," he said, chuckling.

She purred her gratitude for the compliment, flicking her hair back. Her gaze travelled over to the boy opposite him, whose glasses were askew on his face, his cheek resting awkwardly on his Care of Magical Creatures textbook. "Worple looks incredibly…uncomfortable," Fiorenza commented, taking in the wizard's dishevelled appearance. At Lucius's snort, she added, "So after Midas's party, he finally see the light and stop moping around after Black?"

Lucius shook his head. "Nope. Poor fool is besotted is ever. It's a bit twisted, really. The meaner she is, the more he seems to love her." He shrugged, as if such things were completely foreign to him. "Doesn't make sense to me at all."

Fiorenza smiled, and Lucius was surprised to see that it was a little sad. Her long lashes fluttered lightly as she said softly, "It is rather lovely though, don't you think? To be capable of such love, even if it goes unrequited…well, Narcissa may not appreciate it, but…others might."

Lucius stared into the girl's violet eyes, confused and a little uncomfortable. "I suppose…" He drifted off, fidgeting with his robes.

But the hint of sadness was gone and replaced with a look of mischief. She leaned against him playfully. "Oh, I'm just being a silly girl. Say, what do you think while we have ourselves an unconscious Eldred, we make the most of it with, perhaps, a glamour to give him a full beard?"

Lucius grinned, immediately forgetting her strange comments. "No, I think a beard would look too distinguished. How about a moustache? A good long one that curls at the ends."

Fiorenza nodded solemnly. She took a deep breath and pitched her voice perfectly in a warbling imitation of their Potions professor. "My dear boy, I do believe you are the brightest wizard your age. Extra dessert for you." At the wizard's chuckles, she continued with the parody. "What's so funny, dear boy? As you can see, I _never_ jest when it comes to extra dessert." She puffed out her cheeks and patted her belly dramatically.

The two collapsed into a fit of laughter, and between breaths, Lucius pulled out his pocketwatch, his eyes widening at the time. "Fee! We have to get to the Prefect meeting! Quick, in case he's awake when we get back – do the glamour while I grab his camera."

Still giggling to herself, the witch got to work on the task at hand while Lucius turned away to rifle through Eldred's bag. He was about to pull out the camera when a roll of parchment with the Malfoy family seal caught his eye. He curiously unrolled the parchment, but whatever was written was charmed so that it appeared to be drivel. "Hey, Fee – look at this," he muttered, still staring at the parchment.

Fiorenza leaned against his back, her chin resting on his shoulder to look at what he was holding. "Isn't that your family seal?" she asked, pointing at the wax.

"Yeah. Why would my parents be sending Eldred charmed letters?" He looked over at the sleeping, now moustachioed wizard, dislodging Fiorenza from her perch on his shoulder, and leaned forward to rest his chin on his fists. Pale blond hair fell over his face as he contemplated his discovery.

"I'm sure he has a reasonable explanation," Fiorenza assured him, putting a hand on his arm. "Come on, let's take the picture and you can ask him about it later. I don't want to be late – _another _Weasley managed to snag Head Boy this year," she growled, her pretty face forming a rather hideous sneer.

Lucius scoffed loudly. "Never mind him Fee – Dumbledore lets the weasels peak at Hogwarts out of kindness. Might as well just call it what it is; charity. It's not like they have much else to look forward to." His eyes narrowed as he looked back at the parchment. "Still…this is truly-"

Lucius was cut off by a low, feral growl erupting from the throat of the werewolf as she slept. Fiorenza jumped visibly, and looked around, confused.

"Did you hear that? Sounded like some sort of animal," she whispered, eyes wide.

"Er- I'm sure it was just Worple's stomach. You know how he gets when it's been too long since a meal…"

"That was _not _a hungry stomach, Lucius! It came from over here…" she stood and started towards where the Disillusioned girl slept, her face intent.

Lucius leapt up, holding Fiorenza's arm. "Fee! Look, it was nothing. As you can see, it's just you, me and Eldred here. Now come on, we have a meeting to get to." Her violet eyes peered back at him suspiciously, but she nodded, gathering her bag and moving to stand near the compartment door.

Lucius quickly took the picture, then shoved both camera and the letter back in Eldred's bag, wanting to get the witch out of the compartment as soon as possible before she grew too suspicious. He made a mental note to talk to Eldred about the strange document as soon as possible.

He let Fiorenza have a little head start, and then quickly put a locking charm on the compartment just in case – he didn't want any first-years accidentally wandering in while Eldred and the werewolf slept. Satisfied, he quickened his pace and joined up with his friend to get to the Prefect meeting on time.

* * *

_Rionach_

_I sit in a purple field, warm sun gently caressing my face. A woman is singing softly to me, and I lean back, soothed by the lullaby. Her hands weave through my hair, fiddling with the tangles and brushing it smooth, before separating it into three sections and braiding it. Tall stalks of lavender sway gently in the warm breeze. Her hands feel exquisite and her voice ripples over me like clear, glassy water. I lean back further, and I'm no longer leaning against the woman, instead I'm lying in water. The sky is darkening quickly, and a bolt of lightening rips through the clouds. I sit up quickly, thinking I shouldn't be in water during a lightening storm, but the water feels thick and sticky, and as I raise my hand to my face, confused, I see that I'm actually sitting in a pool of blood._

_ The sky and the lavender fields swirl out of view, and now I'm back in the arena. My back feels sticky and wet from lying in the blood, my nose is filled with the smell, and the taste is on my tongue. Two dead wolves lie at my feet, and before my eyes they transform back to human form, one ripped apart beyond recognition, the other gruesomely beheaded. _No,_ I whisper, staring at my hands, blood dripping from my fingers. _I had to do it, she made me do it… _I start frantically pulling at my hair, but the woman is back, braiding again, and this time instead of singing, she's sobbing uncontrollably. I want to make her stop…I _need_ to make her stop…_

Rionach lurched awake, her heart pounding in her throat. A high-pitched ring in her ears slowly faded as she looked around, eyes adjusting slowly to the light. She became aware of someone holding her shoulders, and with the images from her dream still fresh, she shook them off violently, snarling. A hand grabbed at her face, painfully pinching her cheeks together.

As her eyes adjusted, long blond hair and an aristocratic face swam into view. _Lucius_. His nails were digging into her cheeks, so she leaned forward and spit in his face. He leapt back, horrified, wiping at his face with his hand. Rionach brought up her legs so she was crouching on the seat, ready to pounce, before a moustachioed wizard stepped forward and yelled _Immobulus!_ She froze in place.

"_That,_" Lucius spluttered - at whom Rionach now recognized as the Eldred boy - while pulling out a black silk handkerchief and wiping his face and hands, "was positively revolting. What if _it_ had infected me?" He practically yelled the last, though the other wizard looked unimpressed.

"Lycanthropy is passed on through a bite, blockhead," Eldred said, lowering his wand when he was sure that Rionach wasn't going anywhere. "Passed on during the full moon only. You don't pay attention to anything I say, do you?"

Lucius shrugged, putting away the cloth and going back to staring at the girl with vehemence. "_You,_" he said quietly, pointing at her, "will behave yourself, or else I'll put you in a body bind and leave you in the Forbidden Forest to be eaten by giant, hungry spiders. Understood?"

Rionach still couldn't move, and both wizards seem to realize this, because instead of waiting for her to answer, they went back to figuring out what they were going to do with her. "I'll have to cover for you," Eldred told Lucius while cleaning his glasses. "Sluggy has a penchant for you though, so that shouldn't be a problem," he added with a knowing look while Lucius rolled his eyes. "How are you going to get her to the seventh floor without being detected? Even Disillusioned, if she screams you'll be caught."

"She won't scream," Lucius said, sneering, "because my wand will be on her the entire time, and if she makes _any _noise, my earlier threats will be played out." He turned back to her, raising his wand and muttering _Finite Incantatum. _Not only was she able to move again, but the moustache Eldred was sporting vanished.

"Damn," Eldred muttered, feeling his once again smooth upper lip. "I was just getting used to it. Thought I looked rather dashing."

"If you'd like another I'm sure Fee would be happy to oblige," Lucius replied, smirking a little. His face regained its smooth impassiveness when he looked back at Rionach. He kept his eyes on her as he spoke to Eldred. "Go on with the others. I'll wait until the train is empty before bringing her up."

Rionach carefully crossed her legs and leaned against the back of the bench. Eldred scooped up his bag, cast a new Disillusionment charm on her, and left, throwing a worried glance back at Lucius before disappearing.

"Stick out your wrists," Lucius commanded, wand at the ready. She considered resisting, but decided it wasn't worth losing control of her limbs again, so she did as he said. He pointed his wand at her hands and muttered _Incarcerous, _causing thin ropes to spring out of the tip of his wand, binding her wrists together tightly.

"That really isn't necessary," Rionach mumbled, looking down at her nearly-invisible hands.

"A necessary precaution," Lucius replied lightly, crouching beneath the window to the compartment as an adult walked by. "That should be the last… Come on, if we don't leave now, we'll be heading back to London in a moment." He gestured with his wand that she should crouch next to him, and when she approached, the now familiar smell of cigarettes and lemons wafted over her. He placed his left hand on her arm, and she forced herself not to flinch away from his tight grasp.

"Stay close," he said quietly, and then stood, dragging Rionach with him.

They left the train quickly, giving Rionach little time to take in her surroundings. The area was quite densely wooded, with the sun sinking behind the treetops. As they passed through a giant, black iron gate, Lucius swore softly under his breath. Rionach stayed silent, remembering his earlier comments about leaving her in whatever the 'Forbidden Forest' was. She somewhat doubted that he would follow through with his threats, but with the way his right hand was nervously tapping his wand against his thigh, and from what she'd seen of his father, she didn't want to test him.

"Well, the carriages have all gone, and it's a rather long walk up to the castle," Lucius muttered angrily, tightening his grip on her arm. "Let's go. Stick to the trees along the path. Everyone should be up at the castle, but there's still a possibility that we could be seen."

Rionach stumbled slightly as he lurched onward, and without the use of her arms for balance, toppled forward into the dirt, her knee scraping on a loose rock in the process, and her shoulder hitting the ground hard. Lucius fell with her, landing across her back.

Lucius scrambled back onto his feet, brushing away the dirt from his robes. "Watch where you're- oh, shite," he cut his irritated comment short, staring at Rionach in horror. She looked down, and saw her body slowly solidifying into view. "Eldred must've botched the charm somehow – it usually lasts a lot longer than this."

Rionach struggled to stand, her tied hands making the process rather difficult. Lucius stuck a hand out reflexively, steadying her elbow. She looked up, surprised, as he quickly withdrew his hand, hair falling across his face and hiding his expression.

Seeing that they were quite alone, Rionach ventured a question. "Look, you can untie my hands. I'm not going to run." She looked up at the purple sky, where stars were just starting to peak through the treetops. "You have a wand. I have nowhere to go."

Lucius turned to look at her, gray eyes narrowing at her face. Rionach suddenly had the urge to raise her arms and cover her scar, but fought it down. She stared back unflinchingly. Without a word, he pointed his wand at her hands, and the ropes disappear. As she flexed the stiffness from her fingers, he lifted his chin to stare down his nose and said, "You still belong to me. You would do well to remember that."

She felt heat rising in her face, a low growl unfurling in her throat. Her hands balled into fists at her sides. "I…_belong_ to you, do I? And what do you think of your _pet_, Lucius? Am I…_pleasing_?" She cocked her head to the side and fluttered her eyelashes in a gruesome parody of flirting, causing him to look away, an expression of disgust on his face.

Despite the small victory, her smile faltered. The feeling that she'd slowly come to recognize as hope disappeared in an instant, causing her to inhale sharply. She'd hoped that this boy, with the cold, cruel father, this boy, who risked so much in order to free her, would be the last to remind her of how little control she truly had in her short, tragic life. She had hoped, too, that though others would look at her with thoughtless repugnance, that he might be different. She angrily pushed the thought away.

At his silence, Rionach continued. She knew she was baiting him, but both she and the wolf inside were bristling with anger. She couldn't stop. "What were you planning on _doing_ with your pet, Lucius? Keep me in a cage by your bed to play with when you get bored? Were you going to torture me, Lucius? Or were you keeping me for…_other_ things?" Her voice wavered at that last.

Rionach knew that, in her life, she had been lucky, as ironic as that may sound, for Pettigrew leaving her untouched…in that way. But she was not deaf to the shrieks of other female werewolves she was sometimes caged next to, and both she and the wolf inside shuddered at the sounds of violation. Anything that happened in the arena was preferable to that. Now, speaking so lightly of those atrocities, she felt a wave of nausea wash over her.

Lucius had turned white during her outburst, his hand whipping up to her throat. Caught off-guard, she staggered backwards, and he slammed her against a tree. His face an inch from her, he whispered, "Never. I would never do that. Not to anyone. Not even to a hideous werewolf. Never, _ever_ accuse me of that again." His eyes were wide and wild-looking, and a wisp of blond hair blew across her face, tickling her cheek.

They stared at each other hatefully, until finally his hand loosened. Rionach pushed him away and stumbled aside, coughing and rubbing her throat.

When she looked up, Lucius was staring at his hand with a sickened expression on his face. The tinge of self-loathing was once again glowing in his eyes, and she wondered, briefly, if he'd ever physically harmed anyone before. She doubted it, as his father didn't seem the type to allow his soft hands to get dirty.

The moment passed, however, and a blank, smooth stare settled back over his features. He raised his wand at her again, flicking his other hand at her to show that she should re-join him.

Rionach paused, a hand still on her throat, and lifted her chin defiantly. "I do not belong to you," she say quietly. "I belong to no one. Not anymore. I'll follow you, and I'll hide where you want me to hide, because I have nowhere else to go. But I am free."

Perhaps it was the fierceness in her eyes, or maybe her earlier words had deeply troubled the boy as he realized the true implications of what ownership could mean. He nodded once, curtly, and again beckoned her closer. She move towards him hesitantly, and this time, without gripping her arm but still keeping his wand steady, they began the trek to the school in silence.

* * *

_Lucius_

_You still belong to me. You would do well to remember that._

He shuddered inwardly as he remembered his contemptuous words to the werewolf. He'd suddenly felt so young and unprepared when she'd asked for her hands to be freed, the amber flecks in her eyes sparking with savagery, that the words had tumbled out of his mouth in an effort to reassert control. And then, when she'd accused him of…oh, Merlin. He wasn't that type of monster.

He wondered, not for the first time, if he was really doing the right thing. He could leave her here, in the forest, no longer his problem. Maybe something would kill her. But a voice whispered in the back of his mind, reminding him of the brutality of the arena, and questioned the logic in letting a violent werewolf loose on the grounds near his school.

More than that, though, the more time he spent with the girl, the more guilt he felt at his own part in her torture at his father's hands, and, on a larger scale, his and his father's participation in the sport that enslaved her.

He stole a sidelong glance at the girl, whose hair was loosened out of its braid and enveloped her thin frame, which poked through the loose clothes Eldred gave her. She seemed so harmless, now. Reddish-gold waves fell to her waist and curled around her face in the breeze. In the pale light, her fragile features seemed more delicate than sharp, and despite her earlier fall, he noticed that she possessed an animal-like gracefulness as she strode beside him.

His eyes traveled back up her hair, to the loose neck of the over-sized jumper, where four red finger-sized marks were already darkening. He tried to drag his eyes away, but found that he couldn't, and thick, suffocating loathing filled his throat.

_Were monsters born, or made? Could one be born a demon, but die an angel? _he wondered, watching her scar catch the starlight. Whoever had torn open her face, had they been young and foolish, like him, once? Were they really so different?

Her body abruptly froze, and Lucius followed her gaze to a small clearing ahead. Standing amongst the trees was a massive, skeletal horse, with bat-like wings and leathery, dark gray skin. At the sound of their approach, the creature raised its head curiously, pale yellow eyes reflecting in the starlight.

"Rionach…" he breathed, using her name for the first time, and her head snapped towards him in astonishment. "It's a Thestral," he said, swallowing uneasily. "I…I knew they pulled the carriages because Eldred told me but…I've never _seen _one before. It must have smelled your blood," he adds, pointing to her scraped knee.

She looked back at him without speaking, her mouth twitching faintly as if she was considering saying something, but instead turned back to the beast, which in turn went back to sniffing the ground. She started to walk towards the Thestral, soft steps hardly making a sound, when Lucius lunged forward, grabbing her arm roughly.

"Don't!" he yelled, dragging her backwards. Her body tensed beneath his grasp. His heart pounding in his throat, he looked down at his hand on her arm, then up at her eyes, which lacked the ferocity he expected. Instead, they seemed eerily empty as they appraised him, as if he weren't even there.

"He isn't going to hurt us," she said calmly as she reached over to disengage his hand from her arm.

"No, you don't understand," Lucius said quickly, beginning to panic as the Thestral raised its head and started to walk towards them. "Thestrals aren't friendly, they…well, you can only see them if you've seen death…and if you've properly come to terms with that death," he finished quietly, looking away.

Rionach shook her head, stepping confidently towards the beast. "I know there are many things in this magical world of yours that are foreign to me, Lucius Malfoy," she said softly, reaching out to cup the reptilian face of the animal. It made a strange clicking noise as her pale, scarred hand traced along the sallow skin. "But one thing I know for certain, is that the beautiful, mystical creatures that inhabit your world mean us no harm. They are misunderstood, and hunted, and _enslaved_." She spit out the last word with an intensity that caused the Thestral to raise its head in alarm. The girl made a gentle hushing noise to calm it down.

Once the beast was still again, she stepped closer and laid her head against its neck, closing her eyes, as if listening intently. "He trusts me," she murmured into the neck of the beast. "And, surprisingly…he trusts you." Lucius stared at her incredulously, unaware that he'd lowered his wand arm and was standing, defenseless, in awe of her.

Rionach raised her head and smiled at him, the same small, peaceful smile he'd seen as she slept, that didn't twist her scar too much and hinted at a lighter, happier girl hidden deep within. "If you tell him where you'd like to go, he'll take us there," she said confidently.

"I…you mean, ride the beast?" he asked in a high voice, eyeing the Thestral dubiously. The animal snorted, as if it, too, was rather unsure of him.

She frowned at his skepticism. "You said we have a long walk ahead of us. Won't it be faster to fly?" At his further hesitation, her frown deepened. "Are you…scared?"

"Of course not," he retorted angrily. Bracing himself, he strode forward, forcing himself to look the beast in the eye. "We need to get to the seventh floor of Hogwarts," he said, feeling a little foolish and refusing to look at Rionach.

The Thestral lowered its head slightly, and then raised it again, as if to nod. At the sign of consent, Rionach put an arm on its back, just below the neck, and gracefully lifted herself onto the beast, her hair flowing around her as she moved. She made no move to help Lucius, and sat, looking straight ahead.

Gritting his teeth, Lucius placed both hands near the rump of the Thestral and pushed himself up onto its back. It took several moments of struggling to finally straighten himself behind the girl, and when she turned her head a little, he thought he caught the edges of a faint smirk. Just then, something clicked in his mind.

"Wait," Lucius demanded as Rionach leaned forward, about to tell the Thestral to take off. She paused, and leaned back, listening. "The Chimaera, in Rome…it didn't kill you. In the end, it even protected you. Is it because of this strange…connection that you have with the Thestral as well?"

She shrugged, the movement causing a ripple through her hair. He couldn't see her face, but her tone was hesitant. "It's the…wolf, inside me. We have an…understanding, I suppose." She reached out to stroke the Thestral's neck, and her voice sounded wistful. "The Chimaera didn't want to be there, either. When she and I were left in the ring, it seemed unnatural to continue. We saw something in each other that the other refused to destroy."

Lucius said nothing, contemplating her words, so Rionach leaned forward, whispering in the Thestral's ear. The beast suddenly reared up, nearly flinging Lucius off, and he instinctively leaned forward and put his hands around the girl's waist. The great, black wings beat at the earth, and then they were away from the ground, high into the dark sky.

As the Thestral cleared the treetops, Lucius felt the girl inhale sharply. He leaned to his right, red hair whipping his face in the wind, and saw Hogwarts ahead, the lights of the castle shimmering in the image reflected on the Black Lake. Great mountains swell behind the building, starlight gleaming against the rock. He abruptly realized that to a Muggle girl who'd never seen the castle before, this would be a magnificent sight indeed.

They soared higher, and Lucius breathed in deeply, smelling the warm night air tinged with the scent of wild basil and saffron. His hands tightened around Rionach's tiny waist, and he felt her initially stiffen, then slowly relax, leaning back marginally. Her clean scent of damp earth and…something sweet, like clover…mixed pleasantly in his nostrils with the smells of the forest, causing the corners of his mouth to lift slightly. He wondered if she'd been held in a pen, before, with trees and grass, sleeping beneath the stars. She smelled like the night.

His father's words in the arena involuntarily drifted back to him; _Besides, no self-respecting wizard would volunteer to be a werewolf gladiator's handler. The beasts are filthy. _He shook his head as he recognized what he was doing, and immediately loosened his grip, leaning back as much as he could without falling off, and turned his face away, the smile falling from his lips.

He was distracted from his thoughts as they began their descent, the Thestral circling the castle a few times, flying slightly lower with each loop, until finally landing on the top of the Astronomy Tower, which was enclosed by a low parapet. As soon as the beast's hooves touched stone, Lucius slid off its back, roughly dragging Rionach with him. She emitted a low growl in protest, which he ignored.

"Come with me," he ordered, wand once again raised and aimed at her chest. She sniffed irritably but dutifully bid the Thestral farewell, then began the long descent down the narrow, stone stairwell. As they walked, Lucius took a small vial out of his pocket and drank the few golden drops of liquid luck remaining. If Rionach noticed, she didn't comment. Confidence blossomed in his chest as Felix took over.

Once at the bottom of the stairs, Lucius abruptly came to a halt in front of a small wooden door. He motioned that Rionach should wait and stay quiet. He carefully opened the door, peeked into the hall, and upon finding it empty, beckoned her to follow. The two crept along the seventh floor, Lucius astounded at how empty and eerily quiet it was, Rionach marvelling at the moving portraits and floating candles.

They turned down a narrow, dark corridor, and Lucius quickened his pace, suddenly filled with assurance that he was heading the right away. He stopped beside a large, strange tapestry. A man in a feathered cap seemed to be attempting to teach several enormous, ugly trolls how to do ballet, though rather unsuccessfully, judging from the indignant expression on his face. Rionach stood still, staring raptly at the moving figures, while Lucius looked up at the wall opposite.

"It should be here," he muttered, looking around at the wall across from the tapestry. Feeling a strong urge to pace, he walked back and forth along the wall, eyes examining the stone for clues.

A large, heavy-looking gray door suddenly materialized where a solid stone wall had been moments before. Rionach and Lucius stared, eyes wide and mouths gaping open. Lucius stepped forward and put a slim, pale hand on the massive iron handle, and confidently threw back the door, gesturing that Rionach should step through first.

Before them was a cozy, cottage-like room, with thick stone walls, dozens of candles, and bunches of lavender in the window sills. A large fireplace crackled merrily across from a long sofa and a rocking chair, sheep skins spread across the surfaces. A massive, ornate wrought iron chandelier hung from the ceiling, throwing flickering shadows onto the rows of books that stood in the built-in shelves. A set of white doors were thrown open to reveal a simple bed, more bookshelves, and a small loo.

Rionach moved around the room, lightly feeling the softness of the sheepskins, the smooth leather binding of the books, the rough edges of the stone walls. Her eyes shone as she leaned over to smell the lavender. Lucius watched her intently, and she spoke delicately, seemingly forgetting who she was talking to. "This place…" she whispered, candlelight flickering in her eyes, "It's the most beautiful room I've ever seen. And it's almost…achingly familiar. As if…I couldn't come up with a more perfect room myself."

Lucius scrutinized her for another moment, feeling the confidence of Felix fading away – that really was a very small dose – before something else caught his eye. A large black key hung next to the fireplace, matching the door handle. He quickly stepped over to grab it, while Rionach watched him, amused.

"Would you rather your pet didn't wander about unattended, Lucius?" she asked sarcastically, unconsciously running her fingers through the ends of her hair.

"I can't risk your presence becoming known," he admitted, looking at the key in his hand. "What you represent…well, my father could go to Azkaban." At the puzzled look on her face, he clarified. "That's the prison we have. In any case, I'll be back later with food. The room won't be able to conjure any, Gamp's Law and all that…too long to explain."

She stopped fiddling with her hair and wrapped her arms around herself, shivering a little as she wandered towards the fire. He felt a sudden impulse to grab one of the sheepskins and wrap her in it, but stifled the urge. The girl had probably experienced much worse than a mildly damp Scottish evening.

She opened her mouth to speak, seemed to think better of it, and then stated, eyes forward, "Your father, has he always been…well…" her voice trailed off, and the memories of two days prior in the Manor's courtyard hung between them.

Lucius shifted uncomfortably. He stared into the flames as well, deciding what to divulge. "My father is a very powerful and well-respected man. Family means a lot to him."

He felt her eyes on him but he stayed focused on the fire. "He's good to you, then? And your mother?"

Lucius struggled to keep his face neutral as he remembered his father torturing him for being beaten by a Muggle-born girl at his exams, and of his mother, rapidly aging, a lost look hovering on her face. He kept his voice steady as he replied, "My father brings respect to the Malfoy family name." He lifted his chin proudly. "I hope to be as impressive as him one day." He turned to give the werewolf a haughty look, but faltered at the hate brimming from her eyes.

"If you are quite finished," she said in a low, rough voice. "I'd like to be alone."

He stilled for a moment, twisting the key in his hands, then turned on his heel to walk to the door. When his hand was on the handle, he turned his face slightly, almost inaudibly murmuring, "You're not my pet," before swiftly exiting. A loud thud signaled the key turning in the lock, and then he was gone, the door vanishing soon after.


	6. Chapter VI

**Chapter Six – Trust**

* * *

_I do not know what I may appear to the world,  
__But to myself I seem to have been only like a boy playing on the seashore,  
__And diverting myself in now and then finding a smoother pebble or a prettier shell than ordinary,  
__Whilst the great ocean of truth lay all undiscovered before me._

**-Isaac Newton**

* * *

**September 24****th****, 1969 – Night Before The Full Moon  
****The Astronomy Tower, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft &amp; Wizardry**

_Lucius_

Lucius relaxed against his pillow, leaning against the parapet of the tower with his telescope, as Professor Altair slowly circled around, adjusting dials for various students as he walked. The tall, dark man wore simple, pale yellow robes that swished against the stone as he lectured.

"_Capricornus _translates to the 'sea goat.' It has been recognized since Babylonian times – Mister Nott, please stop your completely unsubtle squirm towards Miss Zabini. It's dark, but I can still see you just fine. I daresay so can she, judging by her squirm in the _opposite_ direction. Thank you. As I was saying, it has been recognized since Babylonian times to have a goat shape, though it is often depicted as having a fish tail. Can anyone tell me why?"

Lucius raised a lazy hand, and the professor signalled for him to speak. "According to the Greek myth, Pan tried to escape the monster Typhon by leaping into the Nile. The part of his body that remained above water stayed a goat, while the part submerged in the river became fish."

"Well said, Mister Malfoy. Five points to Slytherin." Eldred, who was sitting beside Lucius and not even bothering to look in his telescope, shot his friend a grin. "The Greeks had another name for the constellation. Can anyone tell me what it is? Yes, Miss Crawford?"

Lucius wrinkled his nose as his nemesis promptly stated, "Amalthea, Sir. The goat that suckled Zeus as an infant."

The professor beamed. "Excellent. Five points to Ravenclaw. Now, as for the connection between _Capricornus _and Neptune…"

Lucius let his teacher's voice drift off as he contemplated his and Eldred's latest dilemma. It was becoming increasingly difficult to sneak food into the Room of Requirement, and Rionach was getting incredibly testy. When they opened the door, they always checked to see if she was awake, as she never failed to attack when woken from slumber. She was mainly surviving off of dinner rolls and the odd piece of fruit, as the fall menu mainly consisted of a lot of casseroles and stews which were difficult to stuff into pockets. Lunchtime sandwiches were generally her biggest meal.

Ever since Rionach had moved into the Room of Requirement, she'd remained completely silent, taking food when it was offered, and staying in her bedroom when Lucius and Eldred were there. They'd taken to doing their homework in front of the fire in the room, partially due to Eldred's fascination with the girl, and partially because Lucius didn't want to leave her alone any more than was necessary. He was fairly confident that the room wouldn't let her out while he held the key, but the look in her eyes was still feral, and he worried about what she might do if left to her own devices for too long.

The only time she ever stayed in the same room as them was when they played chess, her eyes lighting up as the pieces travelled across the board. When they finished, the light from her eyes would fade, and she'd silently pad back to the bedroom, closing the door as the two wizards put away their things.

"You heading to see Rionach after this?" Eldred whispered as Professor Altair was busy correcting another student's telescope.

Lucius nodded. "I'm going to swing by the kitchens first. A lot of students head there after Astronomy, shouldn't be too suspicious." His Prefect status afforded him a certain amount of extra freedom, which had been quite useful to check in on the werewolf in the evenings. She was usually sitting on the floor by the fire, a book in hand, often something relating to the history of magic. Lucius assumed she was trying to learn as much as she could about the wizarding world.

"Has she said anything to you yet?" Eldred asked, pretending to look over the diagram of the constellation that they'd each been given.

Lucius shook his head. "She takes the food, she reads. I don't like the way she watches me when I leave, though. Like a cat waiting for its opportunity to bolt."

"Or a wolf tiring of her cage," Eldred pointed out. Lucius shrugged, turning back to his telescope.

"It would help if I knew what we were doing," Lucius muttered. "Are we running some sort of werewolf rehabilitation program? Getting her all patched up before sending her back into the wild? Or is she just going to stay in that room forever?"

Eldred frowned. "I hadn't really thought that far," he admitted. "But for now, let's focus on just getting her healthy, yeah? Then maybe she'll have an idea of what she wants to do."

Lucius grunted in response as Fiorenza walked over, wedging herself between the two wizards. Midas glowered at them from the other side of the parapet. She let out a long sigh, twirling a strand of hair as she spoke. "Gods, this class is boring. I can't see any of the constellations Altair ever shows us. There are _so _many better ways to spend time on the Astronomy Tower, wouldn't you agree, Eldred?" She nudged the bespectacled wizard, eyebrow raised playfully, but the wizard in question had a dreamy look on his face.

"Maybe one day I'll bring Narcissa up here," he said with a sigh, dropping both telescope and papers to lean back and stare wistfully at the stars.

"Hopeless," Fiorenza said, rolling her eyes as she turned to Lucius, leaving Eldred to his love-struck thoughts. "Where have you been lately, anyway? I feel like we never spend time together anymore."

"Oh…well, I've been picking up a lot of extra Prefect patrols, and joined the Astronomy Club, so I haven't had a lot of free time," he lied, adding, "I've been studying a lot, too – O.W.L.s and all that."

The dark-haired beauty looked at him exasperatedly. "It's still September! Are you honestly already doing exam prep? We haven't even _learned_ anything yet."

Lucius opened his mouth to retort but their professor was loudly telling everyone about the homework assigned before dismissing the class. In the flurry of students standing up and stretching the stiffness out of their limbs before gathering books and telescopes, Eldred leaned over and whispered, "Nice excuse," to his friend before the boys and Fiorenza started to head down the narrow stairwell.

The three students chattered amicably on the way down from class, alternately exchanging gossip and groaning over the amount of homework the professors were assigning in order to prepare for their O.W.L.s. Once back on the first floor, Eldred and Lucius started towards the descending staircase that led to the kitchens when Fiorenza cleared her throat behind them. "Uh, boys? Our lovely common room is this way."

"Oh, yeah, we were going to the kitchen to grab food for- er, to get a snack," Eldred muttered, staring at the floor.

For a moment, Lucius worried that the girl was about to join them, but she shrugged, saying, "Sweet Salazer, teenage boys eat a lot," before turning down a different staircase that led to the dungeons.

Eldred let out a low whistle. "That could've been awkward," he commented before turning back towards the kitchen.

Lucius scowled. "You're a terrible liar, you know that?" His friend flushed, but didn't comment.

Once in front of the entrance, Lucius reached up and tickled the pear in the fruit bowl painting, and the door swung open to reveal the enormous Hogwarts kitchen. Only two elves were awake, busily working on some breakfast prep at a low table near the roaring fire. They looked up when the boys entered, and without a word, brought over a plate of extra meats, cheese and fruit, as well as two steaming mugs of cocoa.

"Ah, thanks," Eldred mumbled, shuffling his feet gracelessly. He wasn't as accustomed to being served by house elves as Lucius was. "Mind if we take some of this with us?" he asked hopefully.

One of the house elves, wearing a pink tea-cosy on her head and a plain white apron over her flower-printed pillow case waggled a finger at him. "Young Master will leave crumbs all over his bed," she said disapprovingly.

"We won't," Lucius said quickly, looking down his nose at the elf. "It's to bring to our friend, she's doing some extracurricular work with Professor Altair and wondered if we could save some food for her when she's done."

The elf pursed her lips, clearly doubting his story and seemingly unimpressed with his arrogant posture, but nonetheless snapped her fingers and a full-looking paper bag appeared in her hand. "For Master's friend," she said firmly, handing over the bag.

Lucius nodded, and the boys hastily finished their snacks before leaving the kitchens. Once outside, Eldred cast a Disillusionment charm on both of them, and they started towards the seventh floor, tip-toeing as quietly as possible. They only had to avoid one pair of Prefects, a Hufflepuff and a Gryffindor, who were much more interested in arguing over whether the Nordic or Irish Quidditch team was going to make the World Cup playoffs than actually paying attention to their surroundings.

When the familiar, gray door to the Room of Requirement materialized, Lucius took off the key that now usually hung from a strip of leather around his neck, and the boys cautiously entered.

"What the…" Eldred trailed off as he gazed around what was no longer a cozy home but the middle of a forest with some of the biggest trees either boy had ever seen. A stream ran through a clearing ahead, happily bubbling away, and a gorgeous, blood red sunset filled the sky.

"Rionach?" Lucius called, looking around. Some leaves rustled above, and he squinted up at a particularly massive fir tree. The red-haired girl was slouched in the curve of a wide branch, her braided hair hanging down behind her.

Eldred held up the paper bag, yelling, "We got you a snack!"

Rionach surveyed them for a moment before tossing down her book, and then swinging gracefully down from the tree. Eldred reached for the fallen book as Lucius commented, "I see you've been doing some re-decorating."

Without a word, the girl plucked the paper bag and the book from Eldred's hands and walked over to the stream, where she sat, legs out and ankles crossed. Lucius noted that the room had managed to procure some new clothes for her, and idly wondered if they would vanish if she stepped outside. Realizing where this train of thought was going, he shook his head faintly, focusing instead on how Eldred had somehow managed to accidentally step into the stream, swearing loudly as he plunked down and wrenched off his sopping wet shoe.

The girl looked over at the unhappy wizard with an amused smile on her face as she popped a few grapes in her mouth. Lucius took that as a sign that she was in a good mood, and sat down next to Eldred, throwing his robes to the side and loosening his tie as he went.

"Needed some fresh air?" he asked casually.

She stared at him for a moment, then looked up at the sky and shrugged. "As close as I can get, at any rate."

Lucius raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"

"It's just…" she trailed off, chewing a piece of cheese. Eldred opened his mouth to say something, but instead a sharp elbow in the ribs delivered by his friend resulted in a small squeak. The girl hadn't said a word in three weeks – Lucius didn't want the other wizard's comments to discourage her now.

When Rionach finished her mouthful, she looked back up at the treetops and sighed. "It isn't real. There's no wind through the trees, no warmth from the sun. The water is wet enough I suppose, but even that must be an illusion. Try to drink it; it will do nothing to quench your thirst." She leaned all the way back, folding her hands behind her head. "I long for the outdoors," she admitted sadly.

"Maybe we could figure something out," Eldred said brightly, looking over at Lucius for approval, but his friend shot him a look that clearly stated that he was questioning his friend's sanity.

"That's impossible," he said firmly, straightening his back. "You don't blend in. The professors will immediately know something is amiss. You stay here, you eat, you rest. End of story."

Rionach shot back up, fury etched in her face. "Your father tortured me," she hissed. Lucius felt his heart beating in his throat as he flushed in shame, his face working hard to remain blank. "I was sold to you, like a piece of meat. And now, what? You think you're some big hero, keeping me in _this_?" She gestured around the room with her arms, the fury replaced with a cold, hard stare. "You owe it to me."

"How _dare _you talk to me like that," Lucius said dangerously, drawing his wand. "I owe you? That's rich, coming from the werewolf who would probably be back to fighting for her life in a month if it weren't for me!"

"I never asked you to save me," Rionach sneered, and both boys winced visibly at the expression. "I'm not just going to sit here and wait for some spoiled boy to find the time for his pet wolf-"

"Enough!" Eldred yelled, scrambling to his feet and leaping between Lucius's wand and the girl. "She's right," he said, pretending not to see the black look Lucius sent his way. "We didn't break her out of your father's dungeon just so she could stay locked up at school. We could start small, maybe just weekends. Without classes or a set schedule, she'll be a lot less noticeable."

"And what, pray tell, do you plan on doing about her face?" Lucius asked contemptibly. Rionach scowled and loosened her braid, hiding behind the curtain of hair.

"For that," Eldred said slowly, "we're going to need Fiorenza."

"_NO!_" Lucius shouted, leaping to his feet. "Absolutely not, we are not involving Fee in this. I forbid it," he snarled, crossing his arms. "_She _isn't worth it," he added nastily, though his sneer faltered as Rionach shot him a look of pure loathing from a gap in the curtain of hair.

"Fiorenza is better at glamours than anyone I know," Eldred replied stubbornly. "And she has girl clothes, and…stuff." Lucius raised an eyebrow at that, but his friend set his mouth in a hard line. "She'll understand, Lucius. And she's the best liar out of all three of us. We need her."

"Not if we stick to the _original_ plan and keep the girl here," Lucius shot back.

Eldred shook his head. "There was no original plan, Lucius. She can't leave – your father will find her. It's a miracle we got her out of your house in the first place. So, while she's here and we figure out our next move, we might as well let her enjoy a little freedom."

Lucius shuddered, reminded of the short note that had arrived the day after they'd arrived at school. Abraxas, never one to mince words, had simply written:

_Lucius,_

_Your pet has escaped. Two of the house elves are no longer in our household. Don't worry – I will find her, and when I do, she'll never run again._

_Your mother and I would like to remind you that this year is important. Uphold the family name. Purity will always conquer._

_Abraxas Tiberius Malfoy_

Looking from his friend's determined face to the girl's miserable one, Lucius sighed. "All right. We tell Fiorenza. But before we think about any of that, we have to decide what's going to happen for the full moon tomorrow."

"Won't I just be here, in the forest?" Rionach asked, staring hard at Lucius.

"I want to be here as well," he said quickly, and looked mildly surprised at his own words.

"As appealing as the idea of ripping your throat out may be," Rionach scorned, "my shockingly good conscience simply won't allow it."

"This room can do whatever we want; I'm sure it will come up with a way that we can keep an eye on you whilst staying safe," Lucius fired back.

"If you stay, I stay," Eldred piped up. "It's pretty rare to have the opportunity to watch a werewolf actually transform! Mind if I bring my camera?" At the dark looks from both his friend and the werewolf in question, he cringed slightly, flushing. "Fine, no camera," he mumbled, shoving his hands in his pockets.

"That's settled then," Lucius said firmly, looking away. Eldred rose as well, and the two started towards the door. "Do you…need anything? For tomorrow night?" he asked hesitantly.

"No. I'll be fine," Rionach said shortly, turning away. She began climbing back up the tree, book in hand, as the boys left.

* * *

_Rionach_

As soon as Lucius and Eldred left, she changed the room back into the cozy cottage, tired of the illusion of freedom. She could still feel anger flowing through her, hot and enticing, and as the beautiful room materialized, she realized that the cottage wasn't what she wanted. In her mind, she envisioned a plain, concrete cell, filled will delicate, glass objects. Vases, bowls, champagne flutes.

Rionach opened her eyes, and everything was there. She allowed her vision to blur, and let the wolf engulf her senses, the beast within eagerly taking over. She snarled while picking up a particularly lovely swan-shaped bauble, hurling it as hard as she could against the opposite wall, the sound of shattering glass immensely satisfying. Soon, every single last object was smashed, the floor littered with shiny fragments. She breathed in deeply, sweat trickling down her forehead and spine.

She leaned against the wall, breathing heavily, no longer even sure what she was so angry about. _So the boy thinks I'm too ugly to blend in with the other students. So he thinks I should just stay here, in this room, for the next fifty years. So he can't even look me in the eye without his lip curling in disgust._ What did she care?

As the anger dissipated somewhat, she noticed tiny bits of glass stuck to her bare feet, so she returned the room back to the idyllic cottage and sat on the couch, where a clean bandage with warm water conveniently appeared on the side table. The water stung her cuts, but she hardly noticed.

_And what, pray tell, do you plan on doing about her face?_ Lucius had sneered, his eyes lazily travelling down her scar. She threw the bowl of water at the mantle above the fire with a snarl. The wooden bowl clattered to the ground, then disappeared, an illusion like the rest.

She reflected that it was rather strange that, the other boy, Eldred, for all his gentle words and suggestions, made her more apprehensive. She knew where Lucius stood, at least, and the hot, white anger that engulfed her when he tossed insults to her face seemed honest and familiar. But she couldn't understand Eldred's kindness. In her experience, everything came with a price, and she wondered what his was going to be for these weekends of freedom. For now, though, she pushed nervous thoughts from her mind, too eager to see the outside world to care.

She stood and walked over to her bedroom, limping on cut feet. Once there, she stood in front of the mirror that hung opposite her bed. Someone else might think it vain, how often she stared at her own reflection these past few days. _Although, one look at my face and they probably wouldn't,_ she though bitterly. Usually she stood, letting her vision blur until the scars were nearly gone, and a hazy, red-haired girl was standing in front of her, nothing striking about her, but nothing repulsive either. Today, though, it didn't seem to matter how long she stood there; her face continued to stare back, crystal clear in its imperfections.

_Curse him! _She took a step forward and punched the mirror, glass cutting through her knuckles. _That arrogant boy with his condescending tone and eyes filled with loathing will be the death of me._ Death by bleeding out through hundreds of little cuts, it would seem. The fragmented reflection before her slid back to its original smoothness as the Room repaired the mirror, and she turned away, no longer wanting to play this game.

* * *

_Lucius_

Lucius grabbed the edge of Eldred's robes and pulled him into the Prefect bathroom, locking the door loudly once inside. After casting a silencing charm for good measure, he rounded on his friend.

"What the hell was that, Worple?" he yelled, glaring at the other wizard. "Are you going to take _her_ side from now on? Five years of friendship mean nothing to you?"

Eldred looked momentarily nervous, but then seemed to steel himself, his resolve evident on his face. "You might be my friend, but you can be a right git sometimes, you know that?"

Lucius walked over to a changing stall and kicked the door, which subsequently slammed back and made a resounding bang as it hit the side of the cubicle. "All it takes is one little slip from her to the right person, and the whole world will know that the Malfoys endorse werewolf fighting. Did you think of that? Did you think about how you may have just managed to single-handedly throw my father into Azkaban?"

"You knew the risk the second you swallowed the Felix Felicis," Eldred retorted, crossing his arms. "You and I are in this together. You knew, deep down, how wrong it was to keep her in the Manor, and now you need to atone for it."

Lucius ran a hand through his hair, and then realized something, cursing loudly. "I left my robes in the room. I guess I'll meet you back in the dormitories." Eldred didn't look like he was finished, but before he could say anymore, his friend was gone.

When he came back to the Room of Requirement, the room was back to its previous form of a cozy cottage, and his robes were on the floor behind the couch. Rionach wasn't in sight, so he deduced that she must be in the bedroom.

After shrugging into the robes, Lucius turned to leave, when a flicker of movement caught his eye. The bedroom door was open a few inches, and he stepped to the side to see the werewolf girl, sitting on her bed, cradling her hand, with a bowl of red water at her side.

"What are you doing here?" she asked softly. Lucius started; he didn't think she'd heard him come in.

"I forgot my robes," he said. He opened the door a little wider and looked pointedly at her hand. "Are you…hurt?"

Her eyes glittered in the moonlight filtering in through the window as she looked back at him. "If I was, why would you care? I'm not _worth _your pity, if I recall correctly."

"Pity? Pity is weak and sentimental," he answered automatically. _Pity is what brought her here_, a small voice whispered in the back of his mind. She looked back down at her hand, her hair falling around her face. "But I…I can't just leave you while you're bleeding," he muttered awkwardly. "Hold out your hand."

The girl fired him a distrustful look and snorted. He sighed. "I'm just going to heal you. Unless you'd rather sit here all night and bleed all over the bed?"

"It wouldn't be the first time," she murmured.

Lucius paled, but stood his ground. "Do you want to be healed or not?"

She stayed silent for a moment, and then slowly held out her hand. Lucius whispered a simple healing spell for minor cuts, and her flesh knit itself back together. She barely looked at her hand, seemingly unimpressed.

"You're welcome," Lucius said huffily, turning to walk out of the room.

"You think you're the first one to ever patch me up?" she asked behind him, and he tensed, turning back to her.

"Maybe not, but I didn't do that to you in the first place," he replied indignantly.

"No, you didn't do _that _one, did you?" she asked, bringing her gaze back up to his.

His eyes flickered, against his will, down to her neck, where the bruises from his fingers had now paled to a dull yellow. "I'm sorry, for that," he said shakily, pink shame colouring his usually alabaster skin. "I didn't realize…I mean, I didn't mean to…"

"I know you didn't," she said quietly. Lucius suddenly felt the need to sit, and the room read his thoughts, an armchair materializing across from where Rionach sat on the bed. He lowered himself into it carefully.

"I shouldn't have said what I did," she added.

He shook his head. "It makes sense. That you would think that of me."

She stared at him intently. "No…I mean, to you, I suppose it made sense. But she…the wolf, inside me…she knew you weren't that. Never that. I said those things because my pride was hurt when you reminded me of where I'd come from, that I was worth little more to you than a dog."

They sat in silence at that, Lucius watching the night sky in the window behind Rionach, and she staring at the candle on her bedside.

"Why were you all cut up, anyway?" Lucius asked finally.

"I was just…venting," she replied vaguely, gesturing towards the mirror. "It's not as satisfying when everything you break just repairs itself afterwards. Glass still feels real, though, so that's something."

Despite himself, Lucius smiled, thinking of his own temper tantrum in the Prefect washroom. "It feels better though, doesn't it?"

She gave him a small half smile, and the two shared a brief awkward moment before both faltered. Rionach cleared her throat. "While you're here…I got some glass in my feet, too…"

Lucius looked down at her small, pale feet, wrapped in white cloth that in spots had turned a muddy red. He frowned, and quickly used the same spell he'd used for her hands. Silence once again stretched out uncomfortably between them.

"Well…I should go, I suppose. I'll be here tomorrow, though, an hour before the full moon."

She nodded solemnly, standing as he rose and walked towards the door. "Tomorrow, then," she said softly.

"Tomorrow," he agreed, and left the room.


	7. Chapter VII

**Chapter Seven – Transformation**

* * *

_There was a terrible snarling noise.  
__Lupin's head was lengthening.  
__So was his body.  
__His shoulders were hunching.  
__Hair was sprouting visibly on his face and hands,  
__Which were curling into clawed paws._

From **Harry Potter &amp; The Prisoner of Azkaban **by J.K. Rowling

* * *

**September 25****th****, 1969 – Night of the Full Moon  
****The Room of Requirement, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft &amp; Wizardry**

_Rionach_

She stood facing away from the boys, who were beyond some sort of invisible barrier that the room conjured. She wished they weren't there, despite the fact that hundreds of people must have watched her transform at this point. And if she was being honest with herself…she knew that it was mostly Lucius that she didn't want there. The previous night, they'd almost…not connected, exactly, but a respect, a camaraderie, of sorts, had taken root. She feared that when he saw the wolf, she would once again be nothing but an irritating animal that he was forced to look after out of some sort of moral sense of duty.

Eldred, as promised, brought no camera, but he still excitedly pulled out a sketchpad and charcoal, determined to keep some souvenir of the night. Lucius had looked at her, shrugged, and then leaned back against the wall, coldly watching as she paced around the conjured forest, until finally she stopped, standing by the stream.

The moon rose slowly. Rionach could feel the wolf unfurling within, could smell the sweetness of the night, could almost taste the blood that would soon rest on her tongue. Her entire body hummed with equal parts agitation and longing; fear of the pain, and desire for the wolf to run free.

The wolf whispered soothingly in her ear._ This pain is for you. This pain strengthens you. This pain is all you have. _

She felt the familiar prickling sensation running through the small hairs on her arms and legs, and crouched down, breathing heavily. Her breath started to come out in short, painful gasps as her lungs began to rearrange themselves. She closed her eyes, but her mouth hung open as her jaw began to thrust forward, achingly slow, and her teeth grew longer and sharper, digging deeper roots. A scream ripped through her throat, blood and spit dripping from her mouth, and her eyes burned as the amber sparks in her irises glowed and spread, turning the entire surface a golden yellow.

_It will be over soon. Push a little further. Clear your mind._

Her hearing sharpened tenfold as her ears extended, and a muffled cry from beyond the barrier caused her to whip her head around. Eldred had made the sound, his mouth still hanging open and his eyes wide with fear, charcoal smeared on his hands and face. It was Lucius, though, who caught her eye. He was standing perfectly still, hands clasped behind his back, his face smooth and seemingly emotionless, but her new eyes registered the slight tremble in his lower lip and over-brightness of his eyes.

_I'm here, I'm always here. I am a part of you._

There was no time to process what she'd seen, because now the bones in her back were breaking and growing back, elongated and thicker, and the pain was so thick that it felt like her ears were filling with water and a thousand knives were digging and twisting into her flesh. Her knees ripped out of their sockets as her legs lengthened, and every bone in each foot was fragmented into tiny pieces, stretching and re-forming agonizingly.

_Embrace your true nature._

Her nails were long, gray and razor-sharp, and they dug deep into the moist earth as she threw back her head and howled, deeply and tenderly, the wolf taking her place in the forefront of her consciousness.

* * *

**September 26****th****, 1969 – Dawn after the Full Moon**

_Lucius_

He shakily rose to his feet as the magical barrier ebbed away, and the werewolf girl lay crumpled and naked several feet from him. He hesitated, and as though reading his thoughts, a white sheet materialized above the girl and gently floated down to conceal her body. As he strode towards her, the room slowly reverted back to the cottage; grass beneath his feet smoothing out into floorboards, trees winding into furniture.

Eldred had long since left, feigning exhaustion, but Lucius knew that his friend simply wasn't prepared for what they'd witnessed. After the horrific transformation, the wolf had spent hours slamming herself against the invisible barrier, snarling angrily with every failed attempt, clawing at herself out of frustration. The other wizard, unused to actually witnessing graphic violence, had looked rather green as he excused himself.

Pink and orange light trickled in through the long windows as Lucius walked over to the unconscious girl. He considered levitating her to the bed, but was afraid that the sheet would fall off, so he carefully tucked the fabric around the small, limp body and lifted her into his arms. Looking down at her sleeping face, red hair softly glowing in the morning light, he was struck by the strange contradiction that a girl so fragile could have been such a powerful creature barely an hour earlier.

He carefully placed the girl on the bed, and a bowl of warm water, as well as a few bandages, materialized on the nightstand. With his wand, Lucius patched up some of the smaller cuts and bruises, but a rather long one that dragged across her collarbone looked like it needed some extra care that went beyond his level of skill. He cleaned the cut and placed a bandage across and behind her shoulder, gently lifting her up and then letting her fall back onto the bed to wrap the gauze around her back. Her eyes fluttered open at the movement, bright blue spheres flecked with amber peering up from a pale, stretched face.

"What are you doing?" she asked hoarsely, eyes flicking to his hands as he rinsed in a new bowl of water.

"Patching you up, again," he said shortly. She just looked at him, and he shifted awkwardly under her gaze. "As best I could, anyway. That cut across your collarbone is pretty deep. I'll try to find some essence of dittany later. It'll probably scar though, since I'm not able to apply it right away."

She gave a little shrug, wincing at the movement. "What's another scar?" she asked sleepily, eyes closing again. He watched as her expression slackened, her breaths evening out and deepening. He sat in the chair across from the bed, leaning back stiffly, thinking he might just close his eyes for a moment. Classes wouldn't start for another several hours, and he was so very tired…

* * *

"Lucius? Lucius…wake up. I've brought Fiorenza."

He opened his eyes slowly, Eldred's worried face swimming into view, another dark figure behind him. He leaned forward and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, then looked up again, running a hand through his hair. Eldred was standing in front of him uncertainly, avoiding eye contact, while Fee stood behind, arms crossed and an irritated expression on her face. Rionach still slept.

"Eldred…" he started, his voice thick with sleep. Clearing his throat, he started again. "Eldred, what's Fee doing here?"

"Maybe the better question is what are _you _doing here, all day, with _her_?" Fiorenza asked, her lips tight.

Eldred made a small sound in his throat and gestured to the door, indicating that they should talk in the other room. All three walked out, Lucius softly closing the bedroom door behind him.

Eldred resumed staring at the floor. "I know we were going to tell her together, but when you weren't in class today-"

"What do you mean?" Lucius interrupted, taking out his pocketwatch. "I've only been asleep for…"

"Nearly twelve hours," Eldred filled in.

Lucius nearly swore, remembered Fiorenza was with them, and checked himself. "It was only supposed to be a few minutes. Eldred, why didn't you come find me?"

"I did!" his friend shot back indignantly. "And I even tried to wake you up, but I doubt a screaming banshee could've done the trick. So I left. You're a big boy, you could figure it out."

"As fascinating as your sleeping habits are," Fiorenza interjected coolly, "fact remains that you've been lying to me, Lucius Malfoy."

Lucius set his mouth in a thin line. "Surely you can understand why, Fee."

"Oh I understand," she replied icily. "I understand perfectly well that you had no intention of letting your oldest friend know that your father bought a werewolf, tortured it, Eldred found out, the two of you whisked her away to Hogwarts, and didn't bother to let me in on any of this until you realized you needed me for something." She uncrossed her arms and stomped her foot daintily. "_And_ you made me feel crazy when I heard her growl on the train."

"_That's _what you took away from this?" Lucius muttered. At Eldred's pained look, he sighed. "Look, I was trying to protect you," he insisted, though the girl shook her head sharply.

"Ever the valiant hero, Lucius," she mocked, strangely echoing Rionach's words from the day before. "You two are in deep water now. And you can swim all you want, but sooner or later, you're not going to have any strength left."

"Suppose you have all the answers, then?" Lucius shot back.

Fiorenza flushed. "Maybe not answers, but I do have enough sense to know that two schoolboys aren't going to be able to keep this secret on their own for long!"

"Stop it, you two," Eldred said sharply, and the other two looked over at him in surprise. "Getting angry about this isn't going to help anyone." He turned to Lucius. "We need her. Rionach will drive herself mad if she stays in here – if the girl doesn't snap, the wolf will. We saw enough evidence of that last night. And you," he added, turning to Fiorenza. "Don't be so hard on Lucius. His own father brought him to a werewolf fight and then tortured a girl our age in front of him. He's had a rough month."

Fiorenza and Lucius continued to stare at each other disdainfully, but nodded their assent.

"It'll also be easier to get food to her, with all three of us smuggling some from the Great Hall, and heading to the kitchens after Astronomy," Eldred pointed out, talking over the discomfort.

"There's a Hogsmeade trip coming up in a couple of weeks as well – we could stock up on food that won't go bad," Fiorenza added. "How long is she staying in this room for?"

The boys exchanged uneasy glances. Lucius cleared his throat. "Ah…see, we aren't sure. She can't exactly leave…she has no magic, but what she knows could destroy my family. And she doesn't have anywhere else to go. The poachers Obliviated any memories linking her to her previous life. All we know is that she was found in Northern Ireland."

Fiorenza sighed impatiently, tapping her fingers on the mantle. "Typical boys. Act first, think later. All right, well evidently we need to find her family. We give her back to them, we Obliviate them, done."

"And how do you propose we accomplish that? Missing Muggle persons aren't listed at the Ministry," Lucius pointed out.

Fiorenza looked thoughtful for a moment, then brightened. "I have a second cousin who's a Squib – my parents won't talk to him, of course, but maybe I could convince him to help us. He lives among Muggles, he must know how their system works. And I can be very…persuasive," she finished, raising an eyebrow at Eldred, who just looked confused.

"Yes, Fee, your talents are infamous," Lucius replied, rolling his eyes. "Who's going to Obliviate them, though? None of us are skilled enough at memory charms for such a delicate task."

Fiorenza shrugged. "We don't Obliviate them, then. We leave her there. Malfoy Manor and Hogwarts are both Unplottable, it's not like she'll find her way back."

Lucius looked unconvinced. "And what if this much too simple plan of yours doesn't work, Fee?"

"Then we figure it out at the end of term. I'll take her to my summer cottage, or something. But that's months away, Lucius. And right now…" Fiorenza trailed off, eyeing the closed doors.

Lucius nodded, his mind flicking back to the fragile girl in his arms, red hair illuminated with sunlight. "And right now, I have a responsibility to make her healthy again."

Fiorenza looked at him gravely. "Yes, you do. We'll help you, Lucius. This is _our_ responsibility, now."

Eldred looked strangely uneasy, but straightened when both his friends directed their gaze at him. "Our responsibility. Yes."

Fiorenza's face broke into a twinkling smile. "Well, now that's all settled, would you fine gentlemen care to introduce me to your lovely guest?"

* * *

_Rionach_

She was fairly certain that she'd died, and an angel had shown up to take her away.

Strange, though, as she never thought she'd see an angel when death finally came. Willingly or not, some of the things she'd done over the past few months seemed…unforgiveable.

But she hadn't thought that it would _hurt _so much to die. Her entire body ached, like she was being stretched over an open fire. And there was a nasty pain, just below her neck, that was so sharp…

The pain threw her forward into reality. The airy, clean room wavered into view, a breeze from the window tickling her cheek. She smelled lavender.

The 'angel' was a girl leaning over her, who was the most beautiful person she'd ever laid eyes on. Well, that she knew of, but she was fairly certain that loveliness like that would transcend any magical memory barrier. Her skin was milky white and somehow glowed, which should be impossible in such a fair complexion. Long waves of black hair softly swayed as her manicured brows furrowed together over top of _violet _eyes. She hadn't even known that eye colour _existed_.

"You're going to be fine," the angel-girl assured her, placing a cool cloth on her forehead. "Lucius took good care of you. That boy should really be a Healer."

A snort from the other side of the bed drew Rionach's attention over to Lucius, who was standing with his arms crossed and a scowl on his face. "Don't be ridiculous, Fee," he growled.

A light, musical laugh erupted from the violet-eyed girl's throat. Looking from one to the other, Rionach felt the need to shade her eyes. So much beauty shouldn't be allowed in one room.

"How are you feeling?" Eldred squeaked from the foot of the bed. Pity flit through her; next to the other two, Eldred looked like a scruffy sparrow trying to fit in with two graceful swans.

She opened her mouth to speak, but her throat was so dry that all she could manage was a raspy croak. The dark-haired girl put a glass of water to her lips, and she drank deeply. Running her tongue over her lips nervously, she narrowed her eyes at the girl. "You must be Fiorenza."

She beamed. "You can call me Fee."

Rionach gave a little nod, took another gulp of water, and leaned back. Lucius's eyebrows were nearly knit together. "Is it always like…this?" he asked vaguely.

Rionach went to shrug, but remembered the pain in her shoulder, and sighed instead. "Sometimes. It's never particularly pleasant, but last night's transformation was especially difficult. The wolf doesn't like being confined to one room. She likes to roam."

Lucius inclined his head, as if he understood. Fiorenza tittered beside her, and started pulling clothes out of her bag. They were simple yet elegant, and obviously expensive. "I brought a few things for you to wear, if you'd like. They're all a bit small on me now anyway, but you look quite tiny, so that should be fine."

"I don't need any charity," Rionach started, but was cut off firmly by the other girl.

"You're not exactly in a position to argue, are you?" Fiorenza's eyes narrowed briefly, causing Rionach to wonder about her role in this mess, but the care-free smile slipped back almost instantly.

"I can fix up your face as well – the glamour will only last about twenty-four hours, and if someone touches your face for too long, they'll see the changes, but I'm thinking the chances of you running around snogging anyone are rather low." Rionach stared at her blankly. "Also, we should probably do something about your hair. It's too conspicuous; maybe if we cut it-"

"That seems unnecessary," Lucius suddenly interrupted, as Fee glanced up at him curiously. Rionach saw his jaw twitch slightly, but the movement was so minuscule, she could be imagining things.

Eldred, as seemed to be the trend, looked confused. "What do you care about her hair, Lucius?"

"I don't c_are,_" he drawled, looking at the ceiling. "But it's evidently her nicest feature, and if she's going to be seen with us, it would be best if she didn't look completely wretched."

Rionach's cheeks burned as she tried to come up with a clever retort, but nothing came to mind. Fee was giving Lucius a hard look, her eyes narrowing again, before returning to her casual countenance.

"As you wish, Lucius. Now, boys, if you could give us ladies some privacy. I believe the girl is quite naked under those sheets, and we have a lot of work to do."

Eldred blushed to the roots of his hair, and even Lucius had the grace to look mildly uncomfortable. As they shuffled out, Lucius said, giving Fee a pointed look, "We'll be outside if you need _anything_."

Once alone, Fee gave her a more calculated appraisal. Rionach fidgeted under the other girl's gaze. The moment was broken by the room conjuring a wooden changing screen, as well as a tall wardrobe.

"Ah, how quaint," Fiorenza said, handing her a modest black dress and stockings, and black shoes with a small heel. "Put these on, see how everything fits. We'll fix your face up after."

Rionach let the remark about her face slide, but stayed still, looking down at the sheet covering her body pointedly. Fiorenza took a moment to register what the problem was, then smiled apologetically and turned away.

Grabbing a fist-full of fabric and her new clothes, Rionach got out of bed and shambled behind the screen to quickly change. She held up the stockings a bit uncertainly, but as with the bathrobe in the Malfoys' bathroom, her hands seemed to know what they were doing. She carefully pulled the thin fabric up over her thighs. The dress slipped on easily enough. The fabric was lovely, though a bit loose around her neck and hips. She tried on the shoes, and though they seemed to fit well, she kept them off, unused to wearing something on her feet. She stepped out from behind the screen. The other girl nodded once in approval.

"Good. A little big, but with some regular meals over the next few months, I'm sure you'll fill them out a bit more. Now…sit, and stay still," she instructs. Rionach did as she said. When Fee brought her wand to Rionach's face, she closed her eyes tightly, flinching away.

The musical laugh returned, so she cracked open an eye uncertainly. "This isn't going to hurt, silly girl. You won't feel a thing. But you must stay very still, so I don't slip," she warned. Rionach dutifully stayed completely still, hardly breathing, as Fee muttered a few incantations and moved her wand in quick, small gestures.

After a few moments, Fiorenza stood back and nodded, satisfied with her work. "When I do this again tomorrow, I'll also go over all of the smaller scars along your neck – this is just a test run. It's rather good, though, don't you agree?" she asked, gesturing to the mirror.

Rionach hesitantly stepped towards the mirror, looking down. Hope danced in her chest, but she also feared the result. When she finally did look up, she hardly recognized the girl staring back at her.

She was still nowhere near beautiful – a fact emphasized by the stunning violet-eyed girl shaking out her perfect hair behind her – but she did look quite normal. Her mouth broke into a small smile, which grew wider when she realized that without the scar dragging one corner upwards, the expression was no longer terrifying.

"Thank you," she whispered.

Fiorenza frowned a little. "No need to thank me. I'm not doing this for you."

Rionach's smile quickly disappeared as understanding dawned on her. "Oh…of course not. You and Lucius, then…?"

Fiorenza snorted, still managing to make even that expression look refined. "Don't be silly. Lucius is like a brother to me. But you could easily ruin the lives of _both _those boys. Honestly, I'm rather shocked that Lucius dared to defy his father in such a foolish way. It's very unlike him. All of this," she gestured around the room, and at the werewolf, "is _very _unlike him."

"I didn't ask them to rescue me," Rionach replied, resentment creeping into her voice. _How many times will I have to repeat that line?_

Fiorenza gave her a measured look. "No, you didn't. But somehow, he managed to decide that you were worth saving, putting more than just his family name on the line. I should hope that you will return the favour by ensuring your continued cooperation and silence."

"And if I don't?" Rionach asked a bit recklessly, irritated with her condescension.

Fiorenza's eyes flashed. "Then a certain older Malfoy might receive an anonymous letter containing the whereabouts of a certain lost pet."

The threat left Rionach cold, and unlike with Lucius, she had little doubt that this girl would follow through. She unflinchingly stared into Fiorenza's eyes reflected in the mirror. "I understand," She replied stiffly.

Fiorenza smiled, teeth sparkling. "Excellent! Now, let's re-join the gentlemen, shall we?"

* * *

Lucius mentally cursed himself for speaking out about the werewolf's hair. What in Salazar's name was he thinking? Fee could cut it all off and dye the remainder blue, for all he cared. It didn't matter to him. And yet…remembering the long, red-gold strands falling across her face, pulled into a loose braid that tumbled over her shoulder…he had suddenly realized that for whatever reason, he didn't _want _her hair to change.

Realizing that Eldred was giving him a strange look from the chair opposite, Lucius scowled and pulled out his Astronomy textbook, shaking his head and attempting to focus on the readings for the week. Eldred seemed to give a small shrug, and then reached into his own schoolbag, presumably looking for his Care of Magical Creatures text, as it was the only school book the boy ever seemed to actually read.

As Eldred rummaged through his bag, a sudden reminder flit through Lucius's mind. "Eldred, I have a question for you."

"Mmm?" his friend mumbled, pulling out his book.

"When we were on the train, I used your camera to take a picture of Fee's glamour-"

"Oh, good! I wanted a reminder of my devilishly handsome days," Eldred interrupted, grinning.

Lucius frowned. "No, I mean, sure, but that's not what this is about. A letter fell out of your bag with my family seal on it, and I was curious as to why you would be corresponding with any other Malfoys."

Eldred paled, swallowing nervously. "I-er, that's to say, ah, your mother wrote to me."

Lucius raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"

"She's, ah, worried about you. Asked if I could keep a close eye on you this year," Eldred mumbled, turning pink.

Lucius opened his mouth to comment on the ridiculousness of his friend's lie, but checked himself as he remembered his mother's strange behaviour two months prior. "Why would she write to _you _about my well-being?" he asked, still suspicious.

"How am I supposed to know?" Eldred asked huffily. "Maybe because I happen to be your closest friend?"

"I suppose," Lucius said. "It just seems strange…but then, she has been acting a bit odd… Well, in that case, would you mind if I read the letter for myself?"

Eldred shook his head. "She asked that I keep her words to myself, so I burned it once we got to school."

"Shame," Lucius muttered, still frowning. "What exactly did it say?"

The other boy reddened. "I really don't think-"

"Worple," Lucius said dangerously. "Tell me what my mother felt she could share with you but not her only son."

"It was about Voldemort," Eldred said quickly. Lucius's eyes widened, and the other wizard kept talking in a rush. "She thinks that you're going to be getting the Dark Mark on your sixteenth birthday, and that there will be some sort of initiation task."

"Did she mention what sort of task the Dark Lord might have in mind?" Lucius asked tightly.

"No. But...she didn't think it would be...easy, to perform," Eldred said, shivering a little.

Lucius pondered his friend's words, still feeling that something was off, but his attention was diverted by the bedroom doors opening. His mouth fell open in shock at the girl who stepped into the room.

Rionach looked…not beautiful, he supposed, but…striking. Her simple black dress stood in stark contrast next to her pale skin and red hair, her blue eyes standing out more than ever now that there was no longer an ugly scar dominating his focus. Their eyes locked for a moment, and he thought he saw the barest hint of a smile before she looked over to the fire, stepping out of the way for Fiorenza to come out of the room.

"I am rather good, aren't I?" Fiorenza asked proudly, admiring her work.

"Brilliant!" Eldred exclaimed as she beamed at him.

"Well done, Fee," Lucius said, closing his mouth and quickly smoothing out his expression. He took out his pocketwatch. "I'm famished, and supper's nearly over – Rionach, you're going to have to stay here. On weekdays we still have to wear our school robes to the Great Hall, and sit with our Houses. You'll stand out too much. Eldred will bring you some food later. Fee and I will come collect you in the morning."

Rionach nodded, still staring into the fire. "I look forward to it," she said softly.

* * *

She didn't turn from the flames as Eldred, Fiorenza and Lucius filed out, the sound of the key turning in the lock following them out. Her hearing, always quite a bit better so soon after a transformation, picked up the light sounds of girlish giggles and amused banter that faded as the trio walked further down the corridor. She sighed, running a hand through her hair and wincing as the movement sent a jolt of pain through her shoulder. Oddly enough, she suddenly realized that she felt much more alone than she had in a long time.


	8. Chapter VIII

**Chapter Eight – Freedom**

* * *

_Fight and you may die._  
_Run and you will live at least awhile._  
_And dying in your bed many years from now,_  
_Would you be willing to trade all the days,_  
_From this day to that for one chance,_  
_Just one chance,_  
_To come back here as young men and tell our enemies,_  
_That they may take our lives,_  
_But they will never take,_  
_our freedom!_

William Wallace in the film **Braveheart**, screenplay by Randall Wallace

* * *

**September 28th, 1969 - Three Days After the Full Moon  
****The Black Lake, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft &amp; Wizardry**

_Rionach_

She sat on the edge of what they told her was the Black Lake. It was a gorgeous autumn afternoon; the leaves were yellow ochre and burnt orange, the lake glassy and still, and flocks of birds passed overhead, migrating South. She sat back and mused at one of the few other times she'd had time to sit, and wonder, and stare at the sky.

Once, Pettigrew brought her to a wealthy politician's home. She couldn't remember his name, or why they were there. It was soon after she'd first been captured, and she was still unused to the amount of pain her trainer used to get the results he wanted. It was difficult to pay attention to where she was brought. She was dragged in chains to a beautiful courtyard, where she was left attached to a stone bench next to a little pond. Bright blue, orange and red fish swam among the lilly-pads. She moved to drag her hand through the cool water, but her chains scraped noisily against the stones as she shifted, and she was afraid of being punished for causing a disturbance. And so, she watched the fish, still as a statue.

Their host had walked up behind her, asking if she thought his garden was beautiful. She said yes, because it was, and he smiled at her, though his eyes remained cold.

He gestured to the far side of the courtyard, where two beautiful women sat fanning themselves under lace parasols. They wore strange robes made of silk, and had piles of shining black hair intricately woven with cherry blossoms.

"Would you like to stay here, in my garden with me?" he'd asked. "My estate is very large, and you would be free to wander wherever you'd like."

He'd looked at her expectantly, but she hesitated, licking dry lips. "Anywhere I'd like?" she asked nervously.

The man's smile disappeared, and she felt a chill seeping into her bones. "Within the estate, of course. You wouldn't need to fight anymore. You would be a...companion, to me."

She was so startled at the fact that she was being given a choice about something, that she stood with her mouth slightly open for a few moments. But as she considered her options, she sadly looked back at the fish in the pond, almost wishing she could say yes. Her body ached, and there were huge sores on her wrists that sent spasms of sharp pain through her every time the manacles shifted, serving as a constant reminder of her enslavement.

What was amusing to her now, as she considered her past, was that if the man had simply told her that she was being sold to him, she probably would have been filled with relief at the prospect of a new home where the tasks may be less pleasant, but at least she would get real clothes and a bed. But that question, that choice that she was given, made her pause. For the first time, she felt the wolf within her stir when the moon was not high, and she growled warningly.

"Thank you, for your offer," she'd said slowly, the simple, polite words ringing in her ears. "But I cannot accept."

The man's eyebrows shot up, and his voice was tinged with disbelief. "You would stay with Pettigrew, then? Fighting like a dog in the arena? I am offering you a good life. What more could you expect?"

The wolf and Rionach sighed as one. She looked back at the fish, simply saying, "More."

More. More was not something that she was supposed to want, to expect, to need.

Later, Pettigrew had hurt her, not with spells, like usual, but with a whip, letting out his frustration. It seemed that she had lost him a rather large sum of money. But with each stroke that ripped open her back, she felt the wolf gaining strength, and her resolve hardening. She was given a choice. She was no animal.

A month after their visit, word came that the man and all of his companions had been gruesomely murdered. Rionach knew little of the who or how, but had heard Pettigrew tell a fellow trainer that the motive was revenge. She never doubted her wolf again.

In the present, Eldred leaned back beside her, pushing his glasses onto his forehead.

"Doesn't get much better than this. What more could you ask for?" he asked, grinning, one eye open and squinting up at her.

Such a conflicting question for her. She gave him a long look, though his eyes were closed again and he didn't notice her gaze. Her wolf stirred uneasily, but she couldn't pinpoint the cause of her distress, so she turned her attention to Lucius and Fiorenza, who had their Potions homework spread out on the grass and were busy arguing over a theory of some sort. It was all so relaxed, so innocent. She kept pinching herself to see if she'll wake up.

It was the second day that she'd spent outside of the Room of Requirement. The day before, she spent hours wandering around the grounds with her three companions, trying not to let the wonder she felt show on her face too much.

Fiorenza was, surprisingly, the most useful of the three. Lucius said little, and Eldred mostly rambled on about the different magical creatures that lived in the Forbidden Forest. Fee, on the other hand, was a veritable treasure trove of information.

"_We _are in Slytherin," she'd explained as they passed by a portrait of their House's founder. "It's the only House that contributes anything useful to society, except for maybe Ravenclaw. They're the swots of the school, but a few are tolerable. Gryffindors are all hot-headed imbeciles who'd rather run head-first into an erupting volcano than Apparate around it, and Hufflepuffs are the useless cast-offs. Our current Minister for Magic is a Hufflepuff. Figures." At this, she gave Lucius a knowing look. Rionach made a mental note to ask the Room for more books on wizard politics.

"That's the Astronomy Tower. We have class there at midnight on Wednesdays, but no one really cares about Astronomy. There's hundreds of stairs that most teachers would rather avoid, which makes it ideal for snogging sessions.

"That's the Quidditch Pitch. Quidditch is a sport that...oh, no one cares really. Don't look so sour, Lucius. It's not as if she's going to be trying out a broomstick anytime soon. Can Muggles even ride brooms?

"Hagrid's Hut is down there. It's rumoured that he's part giant! I'm not surprised; he's certainly dim enough to have giant's blood. Careful around him though, everyone knows he's Dumbledore's lapdog. Wouldn't want him getting suspicious."

She chatted on about the various professors, ghosts, portraits and traditions. Rionach digested all of the information carefully, putting it away to mull over later. She also vaguely wondered about riding a broom. One of the few things Lucius had mentioned was that the wolf must have infused her with at least a small amount of magic; otherwise, she wouldn't be able to see Hogwarts at all, as it was cloaked to Muggles. At that, Fee had teased him about memorizing something called _Hogwarts: A History_, which Lucius vehemently denied while turning pink.

When they had gone to the Great Hall for food, no one gave Rionach a second glance. Eldred explained that weekend meals were less formal, with food being available throughout most of the day so students could eat between the various activities, clubs and study sessions. Rionach had shuddered, remembering the lengths she used to go to for a piece of moldy bread from Pettigrew. The heaping piles of food on the long tables, there to be eaten at the students' leisure, were surreal.

Her thoughts were abruptly interrupted by a group of girls sauntering over to where Lucius and Fiorenza were working. Their leader, a tall, pretty girl with chin-length black hair stepped forward, clearing her throat noisily.

Lucius lazily looked up from his work, took one look at the girl in front of him, and looked back down at his books.

"_Ahem_," the girl coughed. She didn't seem used to being ignored.

Rionach notice Fiorenza smirking, and Eldred studiously staring at his fingernails. Lucius let out a huge sigh and leaned back on his elbows, squinting up at the girl. "Need something, Yaxley?"

"So we're on a last name basis now, are we, Malfoy?" she asked, crossing her arms. "Because that's not what I remember from last June. You were quite...familiar, at the time." The group of girls behind her tittered, and seemed to be veering between glaring daggers at Lucius and giggling over his hair.

"June?" Lucius asked. "Hmm. You're going to have to remind me of the details."

At the outraged expression on the girl's face, Fiorenza snorted into her book. Agatha looked down her nose at the violet-eyed girl. "Something funny, Zabini?"

"Oh no, of course not, Agatha," Fee replied, fluttering her lashes. "It's just...June was _so_ long ago. Do you really expect Lucius to remember _every_ social engagement from that month?"

"This one was _quite _memorable," Agatha huffed, causing her entourage to snigger into their hands. Lucius rolled his eyes skyward, mumbling something along the lines of, "Why does it always happen to me?"

While Agatha flushed, Fee grinned, saying, "Darling, only you can answer that."

Rionach leaned over to Eldred to whisper, "This isn't the first time something like this has happened?"

"Oh, it's a regular enough occurrence," he muttered.

"And who are _you_?" Agatha asked, turning on Rionach in an attempt to divert the attention from her humiliating confrontation.

Rionach's mouth suddenly went dry, but Lucius cut in smoothly. "That's Susi. She's in Ravenclaw, fourth-year. Transferred from Estonia this year, doesn't speak much English."

Agatha wrinkled her nose towards her, but didn't seem suspicious. "It isn't like you to collect strays, Malfoy."

Lucius shrugged, turning back to his books. "How would you know, Yaxley? I hardly think that whatever..._transpired_, between us in June, involved much conversation concerning what is or is not _like _me."

Agatha turned a deeper shade of red, sputtered incoherently, and then flounced off, her entourage practically running to keep up as she sped towards the castle. Rionach turned to Lucius derisively. "Susi?"

He shrugged. "It means 'wolf' in Finnish."

Fiorenza looked at him curiously. "Put a lot of thought into that, did you?"

"It seemed appropriate," he mumbled into his book. Fiorenza looked like she wanted to say more, but Rionach suddenly stood, feeling restless. She smoothed out her dress as Lucius narrowed his eyes at her.

"I'm just going for a walk around the lake," she said defensively, shooting him an indignant glare.

He stood, unrolling the sleeves of his shirt and slinging his bag over his shoulder. "I'll come with you."

She considered making some sort of guard dog related comment, then considered how it could backfire and decided to bite her tongue. They walked slowly and without speaking, which started out uncomfortably heavy, but as her mind drifted and she took in the beauty that was the grounds of Hogwarts, the silence turned companionable.

As they neared the halfway point, Lucius hesitantly asked, "That night, with the Thestral. You said your wolf guides you, and you've mentioned her since. Is the wolf...separate, then?"

Rionach paused, thinking. Lucius stopped alongside her, looking out onto the lake. The sun starting to sink in the sky, throwing orange ripples on the shimmering surface.

"Not separate, exactly. She is as much a part of me as I am a part of the wolf," she said slowly. She took a deep breath, marveling at the freshness of the air. "When I was...hurt, before, she helped me cope. I could withdraw into my mind, keeping the pain at a distance, while she took over."

Lucius gave a small nod, so they lapsed back into silence, continuing their walk.

"Can I ask you a question, Lucius?" she asked tentatively.

He looked surprised, but said, "Of course."

"When we first saw the Thestral, you said you'd never seen one before, and that they were only seen by those who have witnessed death," she said quietly. His mouth tightened, but he said nothing, so she continued. "That night that your father bought me, was that your first time watching someone die?"

"It was," he said stiffly. She waited to see if he was going to say more, but he simply stared straight ahead.

"I'm sorry," she said softly.

"Why?" he asked, stopping again and turning towards her.

"Because..." she shrugged, avoiding his gaze. "I suppose I wish I wasn't the reason."

"It would have happened soon, anyway," he said. She considered asking what he meant by that, but remembered his father, and shivered a little. _Maybe I don't want to know._

He misinterpreted her shiver, and handed her his green and silver scarf. She accepted it wordlessly, giving him a small smile of thanks. They continued their walk around the lake in silence.

As Fiorenza and Eldred came back into view, Lucius grumbled something under his breath while glaring at a girl wearing a blue and bronze scarf who was sitting a few feet away from his friends.

"When did _she _get here?" he asked Eldred as he sat back down beside them.

Eldred rolled his eyes. "Leave it alone, Lucius. All she's doing is reading and staying quiet."

"Her presence offends me," Lucius muttered, causing Fiorenza to look up and glance at the girl in question.

"Her shoes offend _me_," she said with a sniff before turning back to Lucius. "A Mudblood and an eyesore. Hardly worth your time."

While Lucius's face darkened, Rionach ventured, "Mudblood?"

"It means dirty blood," Eldred answered, not looking up from his book. "Our word for a Muggle-born witch or wizard."

Rionach cringed, turning the word over on her tongue. "It doesn't sound very...polite."

Lucius snorted. "It's not meant to be."

"Our families believe in blood purity," Fiorenza explained at Rionach's continued look of confusion. "We don't agree that Muggles should be allowed to practice magic. It's too dangerous. The more Muggles find out about our world, the closer we are to the witch hunts of the fourteenth century. _And_ they makes us look terrible," she added, throwing another disdainful look towards the girl.

"Not to mention the spike in Squib births," Eldred interjected. Lucius and Fiorenza nodded in unison.

"Squib?" Rionach asked.

"Someone born to a magical family who does not possess any magical abilities," Eldred replied. "There's been a huge increase in Squibs being born in the past decade, due to Pureblood witches and wizards breeding with Muggles. A Pureblood and a Muggle have nearly a twenty-five percent chance of having a Squib, and the percentage increases the more the blood is diluted."

"Our people are being threatened with extinction," Fiorenza said fiercely. "If something doesn't change, we'll eventually all die off. Magical folk will simply be a thing of legend."

"Would having a non-magical child truly be so tragic, though?" Rionach asked tentatively.

All three snorted, looking at her like she'd lost her mind. "Squibs can barely function in wizarding society," Fiorenza explained. "They are outcasts. And if they choose to live as Muggles, then they must remain all but severed from their magical families. It's shameful. No parent would ever want that for their child."

"But...I'm a Muggle," Rionach pointed out. "Does that mean you automatically hate me as well?"

Lucius frowned, looking as if he was trying to justify something in his head. "You are a Muggle, but...you don't use magic, and you didn't seek us out. We have no problem with Muggles who go along with their day, leaving us alone and keeping to themselves."

Rionach looked over at the girl who sparked their conversation. She had her wand out and appeared to be practicing turning quills into strings of small white flowers. She looked harmless, but Rionach was nervous about disagreeing with her companions, so instead she asked Eldred if she could borrow a book. As he handed her something with a drawing of a unicorn on the cover, she noticed the girl putting away her books and getting up to leave. When she turned to head back to the castle, her eyes momentarily held Rionach's gaze. The werewolf girl saw that her cheeks were streaked with tears.

* * *

**October 26th, 1969 - Dawn After The Full Moon  
****The Room of Requirement, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft &amp; Wizardry**

_Lucius_

He pulled the stopper out of the bottle of dittany and let a few drips leak across the back of Rionach's neck. The ragged scratches knit together and faded, though not completely. She leaned back, rubbing the spot tenderly.

"Are you going to be here every full moon, then?" she asked, giving him a strange look.

"I need to keep an eye on you," he replied. He busied himself with arranging the food Fee had brought earlier on a small tray, and placed it in front of her on the bed. "Would you rather I left you alone?"

She nibbled on a sandwich thoughtfully. "It's nice having someone here," she mumbled.

Lucius nodded, leaving so many words unspoken between them. He thought of all the times before now, when she would have transformed alone, waking up bruised and bloody. He thought of his own pain, often at the hands of his father, leaving him lying awake at night, too scared to fall asleep lest nightmares settle in, and no one to comfort him.

"Something was different last night," Rionach said, frowning.

"I thought so. Last month wasn't exactly pleasant, but at least you calmed down after a few hours. Last night you wouldn't stop running at the barrier." Lucius poured out a portion of strengthening draught into a small cup. He and Eldred had raided Slughorn's storeroom of extra potions a few weeks prior as their professor snored soundly after drinking a rather fine bottle of elf wine that Lucius had brought over.

Rionach swept her hair to one side and started braiding. Lucius watched her fingers sliding through the red locks, quickly shifting his gaze back to her face as she spoke. "I remember feeling a...presence. It wasn't familiar but it was almost...companionable. And it made the wolf want out, more than she's ever wanted out before." She took a small sip of the potion, wrinkled her nose, and put it back. With a glare, Lucius thrust the cup back into her hand. After a moment, she resumed drinking the foul-tasting draught, scowling at the boy over the rim of the cup.

"I'll ask Eldred about it. If anyone can offer up an explanation for strange werewolf behaviour, it's him. He's been studying the beasts since he could walk," Lucius said, smiling a little after taking back the now empty cup.

Rionach frowned, but remained silent, staring at her tray. He raised an eyebrow. "Did I say something?"

"I just wish you wouldn't talk about me like I'm some sort of animal to be studied," she muttered into her food.

Lucius let out an exasperated sigh, settling into his chair. "But you _are_ a werewolf, and Eldred does _study_ werewolves. I'm not sure I follow."

"You wouldn't, would you?" she asked bitterly. "You couldn't possibly understand what it feels like to be put in this _other_ category, to be talked about like you're not even human."

"Well you're not exactly human, are you?" Lucius pointed out, then ducked as a carrot flew past his ear. "What was THAT for?" he shouted, standing up. Narrowly missing another flying vegetable, he started backing away towards the door. "I think you're overreacting-"

He was cut off by the sound of a heavy candelabra crashing into the wall next to his head. He quickly left the bedroom and slammed the door as Rionach yelled, "AND DON'T BOTHER COMING BACK!"

Lucius strode out of the room and down the corridor, ignoring the small guilty worm sliding around in his stomach. He hadn't said anything untrue, and the girl had a wicked temper.

"Must be a wolf thing," he muttered.

* * *

**October 31st, 1969 - All Hallow's Eve  
****Horace Slughorn's Office, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft &amp; Wizardry**

Lucius, Eldred and Fiorenza leaned against the back wall of Slughorn's office, passing a flask between them and observing the shenanigans of their fellow classmates. Most of the adults at the Potions Professor's Hallowe'en party had either wandered off or were too drunk to notice anything. Midas Nott was practically spilling his drink as he leaned over Agatha Yaxley; she looked up at him from beneath her eyelashes and surreptitiously yanked down the neckline of her dress, all while shooting Lucius furtive looks.

"Look, Lucius, your future wife is making a scene with Fiorenza's favourite Slytherin," Eldred commented, grinning.

Lucius grunted as the girl in question giggled loudly, causing everyone in the room to rub their ears in annoyance.

"I _almost_ feel obligated to go warn the girl of Midas's rather unfortunate salivary gland problem," Fiorenza remarked casually, causing Eldred and Lucius to snigger into their drinks.

"Almost?" Eldred asked.

"Almost," she confirmed, winking.

Eldred glanced over at Lucius, who was taking a particularly long pull from the flask. "Easy there, mate. I don't feel like carrying you back to the dormitories."

"Just trying to make a boring party a little more interesting," Lucius said, shrugging.

Fiorenza rolled her eyes. "You think every party is boring."

"Unless he's the center of attention," Eldred agreed, causing him and Fiorenza to share a chuckle.

Lucius scowled at both of them. Fiorenza gave him a knowing look. "This is about...Susi, isn't it?"

Eldred looked from one to the other, confused. "What do you mean?"

"Lucius has been avoiding bringing her food all week," Fiorenza explained. "And every time I ask the girl about it, she gets all quiet and comments on the weather. It's quite irritating."

"I have no idea what her problem is," Lucius mumbled.

Fiorenza shrugged. "Just an observation. Hey, Worple, looks like your true love is leaving by herself. How ever will she manage to get back to the common room alone..." She trailed off as Eldred was no longer within earshot, having crossed the room in seconds to offer his arm to Narcissa Black, who surprisingly accepted, and the two left.

"Why do you do that?" Lucius asked grumpily, staring at the door where the two exited.

Fiorenza had a far-off look in her eyes. "Hmm?"

"Why do you push Eldred towards Narcissa when you clearly fancy him?"

His friend's head snapped towards him, her face visibly shocked, then clearing as she narrowed her violet eyes. "Why haven't you told him that your father wants you to marry Narcissa?"

Lucius flushed and took another long swig from the flask. "I suppose I want him to be happy."

Fiorenza's expression softened, and she took the flask back from Lucius, nodding. "Me, too."

He raised an eyebrow, watching the beautiful girl beside him. "You could probably have him whenever you wanted, you know."

"I know," she sighed. "But I don't want it to be...like that. I want him to come to me, to notice me."

Lucius nodded in understanding. "You might need to give him a nudge. Doesn't notice much, that one."

"No, he doesn't," she muttered darkly. Looking down, she added, "We're both cowards, really."

"Speak for yourself," Lucius retorted, grabbing the flask back.

Fiorenza gave him a measured look, and then straightened, gathering her shawl around her shoulders. "You can be so insufferable sometimes, Lucius," she sniffed, before walking away and leaving the party.

Lucius sighed and ran a hand through his hair. _I'm really hitting my mark with the ladies this week, _he thought exasperatedly. He looked around for someone interesting to talk to, but it was mostly a few Gryffindors and teachers left milling around. Shoving his hands in his pockets, he sauntered out of the party, grimacing at the sight of Agatha and Midas clumsily snogging behind a tapestry just outside the door.

Once in the corridor, Lucius realized that he really didn't want to head back to the common room in case Fiorenza was waiting up to continue their argument. Taking a sharp turn, he started up the stairs, heading towards the Astronomy Tower.

* * *

Stepping out into the cool night air, Lucius crossed his arms over his chest and breathed deeply, his head clearing. The tower was surprisingly empty, and he wandered over to the edge, looking out to the dark mountains that stood out sharply against the inky blue sky.

"Lucius," a hoarse voice behind him intoned, making him jump visibly.

"Who's there?" he asked, squinting into the shadows. A dark figure hesitated, then stepped into the moonlight. Waist-length red hair whipped around a pale, nervous-looking face, and the smell of earth and clover filled his nostrils.

"What are _you _doing here?" he shouted, leaping forward and grasping her wrists tightly. She easily struggled from his grip, pushing him back against the parapet. He looked back, shocked at her strength.

She seemed to read his mind. "All the rest and food has been good for my wolfish strength," she said, smirking a little. "And you can relax. Eldred was so preoccupied with that party you were all going to tonight that he forgot to lock the room. I waited until late to sneak out. Fiorenza said that not many teachers bother checking up here, so I figured..." she trailed off, looking out into the night.

Lucius considered arguing further, but suddenly felt inexplicably exhausted, and he leaned back against the parapet, sighing deeply. Rummaging through his pockets, he produced cigarettes and lighter, and after lighting one, he closed his eyes and took a long drag, smoke burning his throat.

He opened his eyes and peered at Rionach through a haze of smoke. She was staring at the cigarettes curiously. "Want one?" he asked, reaching up the pack.

She wordlessly took out one of the long, thin sticks and handed the pack back to him. "I didn't know you smoked," she said, sitting beside him.

"They're harder to get at school, so I ration them," Lucius replied, blowing another cloud of smoke in the air. "Here," he added, flicking the lighter near her cigarette.

Rionach took a small drag, then immediately started sputtering, holding her throat. "That _burns. _You do this for fun?" she asked incredulously.

Despite himself, Lucius grinned. "It gets better with practice," he admitted, and watched with an amused expression on his face as the girl determinedly brought the cigarette to her lips and inhaled sharply, this time holding the smoke in her mouth for a moment before slowly breathing out, her eyes only watering slightly.

"You're a stubborn little thing, aren't you?" he said, watching as the girl focused on learning how to smoke as if her life depended on it.

"You're one to talk," she growled, though it sounded more playful than anything.

He smiled a little, leaning back to look at the stars. "I'm sorry about earlier," he said, his eyes flicking back to the girl. "I shouldn't talk about you like you're an animal. I don't think about you like you are, if that makes a difference."

"It makes all the difference in the world," she whispered, holding his gaze. "And I'm sorry for losing my temper. I'm not used to backing down." He nodded once, and they both turned back to the stars.

"What does Rionach mean?" Lucius asked after a little while. The girl glanced at him curiously, and he explained. "When I was trying to come up with a suitable code name for you, I also looked up Rionach to see if anything interesting came up, but couldn't find it."

"Pettigrew said it's an Irish name that means 'queenly,'" she replied, shrugging. "It fit with the image he was trying to convey of me for the Games."

"It's not your real name, then?" Lucius asked, and she shook her head.

"Sometimes I think that maybe I dreamt my name, but when I waken, I can never remember what it was," she said, a sad look flitting across her face.

Lucius hesitated, wondering if he should tell her of Fiorenza's efforts to locate her lost family, but decided that he didn't want to give her false hope. He simply said, "Real name or not, I like it. Rionach suits you."

She smiled, a genuine smile that wasn't forced or sad, and Lucius felt a warm heat spreading across his chest. He noticed for the first time that she was only wearing a thin blouse and long skirt with bare feet in the chilly October air, so he produced the now empty flask and transfigured it into a large blanket. She stayed still as he carefully tucked the fabric around her, reminded of the first time he'd watched her transform. She'd been so frail and bruised, blood trickling down from her collarbone...

"Thank you," Rionach said softly, snapping him back to reality. He quickly withdrew his hands and resumed his study of the stars, hardly focusing with the smell of sweet clover clouding his senses.

Shaking his head a little, he realized, suddenly, what he needed to do, and he reached under his shirt, bringing out the key to her room. He handed it to her without a word. She stayed still, staring at his hand in shock.

"Lucius...are you sure?" she breathed, her voice trembling.

He nodded. "Fee and Eldred have copies as well, but we can get those from them later. I just thought, well...I wanted to show you that you're not my pet. You're no one's pet. Never again."

She shakily took the key, her eyes shining as words completely escaped her. Lucius smiled, and to alleviate some of the tension, started pointing out some of the constellations above them. She watched his face and hands as he talked, telling her the myths surrounding the stars and who discovered the patterns.

When dawn crept up behind them, gold rays spilling over the sides of the mountains, a young man was leaning back, sleeping with a small smile on his face, while a pale girl's cheek rested on his shoulder, red hair gathered in his lap.


	9. Chapter IX

**Chapter Nine – Old Wounds**

* * *

_She also said the wicked people needed love as much as good people-  
__And were much better at it._

From **Poor Things** by Alasdair Gray

* * *

**November 1st, 1969 - Waning Gibbous Moon  
****The Astronomy Tower, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft &amp; Wizardry**

_Eldred_

He looked down at his best friend and the werewolf, curled up together under a blanket, blond and red hair illuminated by the morning light. Conflicting emotions played across his face as he watched them sleep, gentle smiles settled on their mouths. He glanced at the sealed letter in his hand, shook his head as if to clear it, and stuffed the envelope back in his pocket before leaning forward and giving Lucius a small shake on the shoulder.

His friend blinked up at him sleepily, eyes widening as he realized where he was, and who he was with. He carefully disentangled his arm from Rionach's hair, and the girl stirred awake at the movement.

"We were discussing my decision to give Rionach the key to her room, and lost track of time," Lucius said to the unspoken question. Eldred gave him a hard look, but didn't push further. _Just let it happen..._

"When you didn't come back last night, I assumed you were in the Room of Requirement. On my way there, I saw Rionach's shoes at the bottom of the steps to the Astronomy Tower, so I came up to check."

Lucius and Rionach both stood, carefully keeping a few inches of distance between them. Lucius glanced around at the position of the sun. "Why are you up so early?" he asked, remembering how late it was when his friend had left Slughorn's party.

"I have a letter to deliver," Eldred replied. "The school owls tend to run out quickly on weekends."

Lucius raised an eyebrow. "You know you can use mine whenever you'd like."

Eldred shrugged. "Your owl kind of scares me."

"He is a bit vicious, isn't he?" Lucius asked lightly. No one smiled.

Rionach cleared her throat. "I'm going to head to my room to wash and change. I suppose I'll see you both at breakfast?"

Lucius nodded. "Nine o'clock? I have Quidditch practise at ten."

"See you then," she answered, and the two exchanged a small, awkward smile before she headed down the stairs ahead of the boys.

Once she was out of earshot, Eldred turned to his friend, a question on his lips, but a withering look from Lucius made him swallow it. "Shall we?" he asked instead, and the two wizards descended the from the tower in silence.

* * *

**November 3rd, 1969 - Last Quarter Moon  
****Potions Classroom, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft &amp; Wizardry**

Professor Slughorn weaved around the desks of the Potions classroom, handing back assignments to apprehensive students. "I've marked your work according to O.W.L. standards in order to prepare you for what will be an incredibly difficult exam in June. Ah, Mister Worple," the portly professor said, stopping in front of Eldred's desk. "I daresay you will be a fine writer of novels someday, but the excessive use of flowery language does little to embellish a Potions paper," he said firmly, handing the bespectacled wizard an essay marked with an 'A'. A few Gryffindors on the other side of the room sniggered into their cauldrons, but Eldred smiled anyway; he wasn't interested in taking N.E.W.T. level Potions.

"As for you, Mister Malfoy, I am rather disappointed in your work," Slughorn said gravely. "Not your best. I did give you a passing grade due to the fact that I know you understand what you're talking about. However, keep in mind that the exam proctor will not be so forgiving."

"Thank you, Sir," Lucius said curtly, quickly stowing the essay in his bag. Fiorenza and Eldred were giving him matching looks of surprise, while Agatha was smirking above her paper clearly marked with an 'O'. He tuned out the rest of the lecture, resulting in a completely botched Invigoration Draught during the second half. Fiorenza slid over to his table, peeking into his cauldron.

"Lucius, you were brewing potions more complicated than these when you were a third-year. What's going on?" she asked worriedly.

He sighed, picking up his wand and muttering _Evanesco! _towards the cauldron. The contents vanished, and he went back to slicing roots in order to re-attempt the potion. "I'm just a little distracted today, I suppose."

Fiorenza frowned, putting a hand on her hip. "You must have been distracted the other day, too, to hand in an essay that didn't merit an 'O'?"

"What are you doing over here, talking to me, anyway? I thought I was too 'insufferable' for you to breathe the same air as me," Lucius shot back in an attempt to switch the focus from his poor marks.

The witch rolled her eyes. "You were being a prat that whole night and you know it. And we're not done talking about this," she added, sauntering back over to her own cauldron.

When the class was done, Lucius, Eldred and Fiorenza headed to the library, Eldred and Fiorenza grumbling over the heavy stack of homework Slughorn had assigned, while their friend silently followed, lost in thought. Once they reached the library, Fiorenza swiftly led them to a small alcove at the back, glaring at a couple of first-year boys who sat within earshot until they turned red and scampered off.

"_Now_," she said firmly, throwing her bag on the floor, "you are going to tell us what's going on, Lucius Malfoy."

"It's about Friday night, isn't it?" Eldred asked quietly. Lucius shot him a dark look, confirming the other wizard's suspicions.

"What am I missing? What happened Friday?" Fiorenza demanded.

Lucius stayed silent, so Eldred reluctantly spoke up. "He and Rionach spent the night star-gazing on the Astronomy Tower."

"We were chatting, and lost track of time," Lucius interjected while Fiorenza gaped at him.

"Oh really? You expect me to believe that you of all people took a clueless girl up to the Astronomy Tower just to look at the pretty stars and discuss the political climate?" Fiorenza asked furiously.

"Don't be ridiculous Fee. She's a _werewolf_, for Salazar's sake," Lucius retorted, working to keep his expression neutral.

The witch gave him a long, measured look, but finally nodded once, seemingly satisfied with his answer. "Just keep your hands to yourself, all right? We don't need to make this anymore complicated than it already is." At her friend's shrug, she continued. "But if it's not the girl that's bothering you, then what is it?"

"I haven't been sleeping very well," he said truthfully. He did not, however, explain the cause of his insomnia. For several weeks now he'd laid awake, contradicting images flitting across his mind. The red wolf, tearing out a man's throat in the arena. A girl, lying on the floor, a sheet gently tucked around her bruised body. And then the past two nights, that same girl, sitting beside him, tendrils of smoke wisping from her lips as his heart crashed into his ribcage…

"Are you having nightmares?" Eldred was asking, pulling him away from his thoughts. The wizard took off his glasses and started polishing them furiously, words tumbling out of his mouth. "I've heard about those werewolf fights, Lucius...some of the things that are done to make the wolves put on a good show are despicable. You can talk to us, if you need to." Fiorenza nodded as well.

"Ah, thanks, I suppose. But I assure you, it's just a little stress. There's a lot going on this year. And Flint is really stepping up the Quidditch practices. That, combined with checking up on the werewolf and keeping up with our mountain of homework, has me a little burnt out." Lucius resolutely sat down and opened up his Potions text, keeping his eyes on the book until his friends finally sat down around him, pulling out their own books, the discussion clearly over.

* * *

**Monday, November 24th, 1969 - Night After The Full Moon  
****The Room of Requirement, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft &amp; Wizardry**

_Lucius_

She wouldn't wake up.

He tried everything. He was too afraid to use an awakening spell, because those could cause more harm than good if the subject had any internal bleeding. He wrapped her up in furs, put a cloth over her head, fixed up the scrapes that he could and tried to stick a blood replenishing potion down her throat.

She still wouldn't wake up.

He sat back in his chair, pushing his fingers around his eyes to stay awake. Remembering that he still had a couple vials of Invigoration Draught in his bag, he quickly took one, immediately snapping awake and sitting a little straighter.

He didn't understand what happened last night. The wolf had been relentless about getting out of the makeshift forest. She snarled and howled and threw herself against the barrier, clawing at her own face when nothing worked. The worst was when she started climbing some of the trees and throwing herself from the top, trying to gain as much momentum as possible. When dawn had finally crept up, Rionach had stayed very still on the ground, which Lucius hadn't found too strange. After her previous transformations, she'd stayed unconscious for several hours from pure exhaustion, eventually waking and seeming tired and a little bruised, but fine.

Not so today. She hadn't woken in twelve hours, and she shivered in her sleep, despite her face being flushed with heat. Fiorenza had stopped by to do her usual glamour for the girl, and tried to convince Lucius to come to class with them, but he had vehemently refused, crossing his arms and planting his feet by the werewolf's bed. He'd never felt so fiercely protective in his life, and while he didn't quite understand it, he certainly wasn't going to leave the girl alone. With a sigh, Fiorenza had left, saying that she would try to wrangle some healing draughts from Madame Pomfrey after class.

Eldred had stopped in around lunch with some food and the extra potions that Fee had collected. Lucius's food remained mostly untouched; his stomach had a hard, cold knot tightening in its pit. His friend had left his books with copies of the work that he'd missed, and Lucius had tried to look it over, the logical side of his brain telling him that he couldn't afford to fall behind any more than he already was, but the words blurred when he tried to read, and his mind wandered too much. And so he sat, staring into nothing, watching the girl breathe and twitch in her sleep.

"Don't worry," Eldred had said with a small half smile, putting his hand on Lucius's shoulder before he left. "Werewolves heal faster than we do. Whatever happened, she'll get through it."

But that had been almost six hours ago, and now Lucius was starting to panic. Rionach moaned softly in her sleep, and Lucius leapt forward, wiping her brow with a cool cloth. Her breath started to come out faster, her right hand twitching against the sheet. He shook her shoulder gently, muttering, "Wake up, ye Gods, wake her up, I don't know what I'll do if she dies…"

Her eyes snapped open, looking wild and terrified, and she jolted forward, gasping for air. Lucius fell backwards in shock, landing on the floor, cursing furiously as she cried out in pain at the sudden movement. He scrambled to his feet as she looked around frantically, her breathing calming slowly once she understood where she was.

"What happened?" Rionach asked hoarsely as Lucius gently pushed her back down against the pillows, mopping her forehead and putting a Strengthening Draught to her lips.

"You had a rough transformation last night. You've been unconscious for over twelve hours. Do you remember anything?" he asked, inwardly fighting to keep his voice even. Inside, he was so relieved, he thought he might melt away.

She sipped the potion quietly for a moment, and then started to slowly stretch out all of her muscles, wincing when she flexed a sore spot. "It was the same presence as last month. Did you ever talk to Eldred about what it could have been?"

Lucius nodded as he started to fix up a tray of food for her. "He said that either another wolf is nearby or something incredibly dangerous that would threaten the wolf. I don't see how either one of those would get past the Hogwarts wards undetected, though."

"It must be another wolf," she said instantly, opening up the sandwich that Lucius handed to her and pulling off the tomatoes. "I didn't feel malice or any sort of threat. Just this intense...desire," she flushed at the word, "to join him."

"Him?" Lucius asked sharply. He felt something strange rising in the back of his throat, and fought it back down. Why did he care?

Rionach nodded, taking a large bite from the reformed sandwich. "Definitely him."

"Definitely," Lucius muttered darkly. The werewolf gave him a curious glance, and he changed the subject quickly. "I think you were having nightmares. You kept shuddering in your sleep."

The girl paled, putting down her food. "They only just started a few weeks ago," she said quietly. "I think before, I was too exhausted to dream about anything."

"Do you want to talk about it?" Lucius asked. A strand of hair fell in front of her face, and he leaned forward to tuck it behind her ear. Their eyes locked for a moment, and he felt a flush creeping into his cheeks. He quickly picked up the wet cloth and dabbed at her forehead again, trying to cover up the awkward gesture. _Pull yourself together, Malfoy._

"No," she said finally. "I don't want to talk about anymore horrors, for now."

Lucius nodded, understanding her completely. "What would you like to talk about?"

"Don't you have places to be?" she replied, eyebrows raised.

"Would you like me to leave?" he shot back.

She shrugged. "I didn't say that."

"Then I'm not leaving." He pulled out his History of Magic textbook, opening it to the chapter his homework covered. "Would you like to hear about schoolwork?" he asked, wincing a little at the feeble attempt at conversation, but Rionach nodded eagerly.

"I'd love to," she said simply, smiling and leaning further into the pillows.

Lucius read the chapter aloud, stopping to explain different terms when she asked, and scribbling down notes that were relevant to his assignment. When he was done, they moved onto Potions; followed by Transfiguration, then Charms. Soon, the fire was low in the hearth, the moon high in the sky, and Rionach's eyes were gently closed. Lucius quietly put away his books, and the room conjured a small cot for him to sleep on next to the bed. Within minutes he was snoring gently, the even breaths of the werewolf girl lulling him to sleep.

* * *

Her screams woke him when the room was still dark. Lucius nearly fell on the floor again in his hurry to be at her side. He could feel his heart slamming in his chest, panic rising in his throat. He couldn't think clearly, he just wanted her screams to stop. After lighting a candle, he jumped on the bed and without thinking, gathered the frail girl into his arms. She pushed against him weakly, until eventually, her cries of anguish turned to sobs of defeat, and she cried into his shoulder until dawn crept along the inky blue clouds.

When she was finally calm, Lucius fell back, exhausted, Rionach curled beneath his arm, and she stared up into his eyes, candlelight flickering in their depths. He reached his other arm over and stroked her jaw with his thumb, the soothing gesture causing her eyes to flutter closed again, tension easing from her body. He leaned forward and pressed a light kiss into her hair, murmuring, "You are not alone." A slow, breathtaking smile spread across her features, and the now familiar warm feeling spread within his chest.

Lucius vaguely considered going back to the cot, thinking that Fiorenza would be furious when she stopped by later, but at this point, he was too tired to care. He buried his face in Rionach's hair, his hand drifting down to her waist, and within seconds, was asleep.

* * *

He awoke slowly, feeling warm and at peace. A whiff of sweet clover tickled his nose and he looked down, smiling, at the delicate girl in his arms. He gently withdrew his arm from her waist and left the bed, quietly leaving the bedroom. They'd slept for the entire day, evening once again settling in.

The second the door was closed, a cold voice greeted him from in front of the fireplace. "Hello, Lucius," Fiorenza said, arms crossed and face furious.

Lucius sighed, avoiding her gaze. "Look, Fee, I know it looks bad but we were just-"

"Oh, no need to explain. Let me guess, you were chatting and lost track of time?" Fiorenza drawled sarcastically, violet eyes flashing.

Lucius's mouth drew into a tight line, and he crossed his own arms, staring down the witch. "She had injuries that couldn't be left alone. When she had a nightmare, I made her feel better, and fell asleep. That's all. I've told you, she's-"

"Just a werewolf. You did mention that," Fiorenza interrupted, again. "And yet, here you are. Comforting her at every turn, going out of your way to see that she's cared for, spending _another_ entire night at her side… It's not like you."

"Why do you care so much, Fee?" Lucius asked, feeling tired and waspish. "The way I conduct myself around Rionach is really no concern of yours. I didn't even want you to be a part of this in the first place. If I didn't know that you were drooling after Eldred, I would think that you were jealous."

"You...how _dare _you," Fiorenza seethed, slowly walking towards him. She stopped when her face was a few inches from his, spitting out the words. "I care because I am your friend, Lucius Malfoy. For some reason Eldred seems to be completely fine with all of this, but then the boy has always been a terrible judge of character. And I care, because I don't want to see you getting hurt."

She turned on her heel and started back towards the door, pausing to say, "When this all falls apart, come find me. I won't tell you I was right, but I will comfort you. Until then, I'll say nothing more on the matter." With that, she was gone.

Lucius lowered himself down to the leather couch with a thud, watching the fire crackle away. He thought about the previous year, when everything had been so simple. No werewolf, no friends being angry with him, no Death Eater initiation. He started when the door to the bedroom clicked open, and Rionach padded barefoot over to the chair next to the couch, curling up in the deep seat. He could tell from the look on her face that she'd heard his spat with Fiorenza.

"Fee doesn't know what she's talking about," he said curtly. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the girl stiffen slightly, but he continued looking into the fire. "I am looking after you purely due to the fact that I owe you a great debt in my father's name. When you are well, and we have returned you to your family, the debt will be repaid."

Rionach was quiet for a moment, then spoke up, a tinge of hope in her voice. "You're looking for my family?"

Realizing his error, Lucius opened his mouth to rescind his statement, but decided to leave it. She deserved to know, at this point. "Fiorenza has a second cousin who is a Squib, living among Muggles. He hasn't even replied to her yet, so we're not sure if he'll even help us, but we're hoping that he will know how to look into your disappearance."

The glint of hope in her face faded as she realized how far-fetched of a plan it was. Lucius found himself desperately wishing that he could wrap his arms around her again and tell her that everything would be all right. Instead, he stood awkwardly, mumbling something about going to find food. He felt her stare as he walked away, and quickened his pace to exit the Room.

* * *

On his way back from the kitchens, Lucius nearly ran into a suit of armour, barely paying attention to where he was going. Shaking his head, he started off again, a bundle of food in his bag and a scowl on his face. He was still irritated with Fiorenza, but mostly with himself; he knew, at some level, that his friend was right, and yet, he found that when he considered distancing himself from the werewolf, panic set into his mind, and a cold feeling settled over him.

Lost in thought, the young wizard didn't notice his Transfiguration professor heading towards him until too late. He quickly smoothed out his expression and straightened as she demanded, "Mister Malfoy, as you well know it is nearly forty minutes past curfew. You're not even wearing your Prefect badge! Do you have a legitimate reason for wandering the corridors so late?"

"I was studying in an empty classroom, Professor, for a quiet space, and lost track of time," he answered quickly.

McGonagall gave him a hard look, and gathered her emerald robes around her. "If that's true, I'm glad to hear it. You could use the extra studying. Your most recent essay left much to be desired."

"I've just been having a little trouble focusing, is all, Ma'am," Lucius replied, trying to keep the sharpness out of his tone. The last thing he needed was the Head of Gryffindor to start watching him too closely.

"Be that as it may, losing track of time is no excuse for a student as old as yourself, Mister Malfoy, let alone a Prefect. Twenty points will be deducted from Slytherin, and you'd best head straight to the dungeons," the professor said sternly. Lucius nodded, keeping his eyes down, and started walking towards the Slytherin common room. Once he rounded a corner, he walked through the courtyard and out to the grounds, looping around the castle in order to approach the Room of Requirement via a less popular route.

As he skirted along the edge of the Quidditch Pitch, Lucius noticed a dark figure gliding in and out of the massive hoops, and quickly stepped into a shadow. Squinting up, he watched as whoever it was flew into a patch of moonlight, revealing unmistakable long hair and massive glasses.

"Eldred?" Lucius called, staring up at his friend bemusedly.

The other wizard halted in mid-air, then dipped his broom down and flew down to where Lucius stood. "What are you doing, flying around in the middle of the night - on the new Nimbus at that?" he asked, shocked, taking in Eldred shiny broom.

"I, er, nicked it from the Gryffindor broomshed," Eldred answered. His voice sounded a bit strange, but his face was hidden in shadow. "Thought it might be a nice night for a fly."

Remembering the disastrous try-outs from the previous year, Lucius felt a sudden wave of pity for his friend. "I get it, mate. But don't you think you should maybe keep your practicing to regular school hours, with your own broom? You're being too risky on two fronts."

Eldred shrugged, motioning towards Lucius with his head. "You're one to talk when it comes to being out past curfew."

"I had to get food for Rionach and I. We missed all of today's meals," Lucius explained, irritation creeping into his voice.

"Ah," the other boy intoned. "Well, I'll leave you to it, then, and I'll go return this," he added, raising the broom a little in his hand. "See you back at the dormitory?"

"Sure," Lucius replied, turning away.

* * *

_Eldred_

When Lucius was gone, he pulled a small note out of his pocket, which read only: _A taste of what is yet to come. _He ran his hand along the smooth, polished wood, smiling a little, and then swung his leg over the handle and kicked off. The cool night air cleared away any uncomfortable thoughts, and he breathed deeply, throwing his head back to look at the stars above.


	10. Chapter X

**Chapter Ten – Ophelia**

* * *

_They tell us that suicide is the greatest piece of cowardice…  
__That suicide is wrong;  
__When it is quite obvious that there is nothing in the world  
__To which every man has a more unassailable title  
__Than to his own life and person._

\- Arthur Schopenhauer

* * *

**December 17th, 1969 - First Quarter Moon  
****The Quidditch Pitch, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft &amp; Wizardry**

_Rionach_

Her stomach was a bundle of nerves as she huddled with Fiorenza on the edge of the Quidditch Pitch. Her neck hurt from looking up for so long, but she'd been told that a Ravenclaw standing in the Slytherin cheering section would be too conspicuous, and when Lucius had asked if she wanted to watch, she jumped at the chance, so they stayed off to the side to watch the game far from the crowds.

Fee explained to her that Lucius was the Keeper, and his job was to keep the other team from scoring. Rionach of course knew little about Quidditch, but it did seem that he was quite good, as some time had passed and the Gryffindors had yet to score. She couldn't believe how fast the players flew and how graceful they were. She wrapped the black cloak that Fee had given her tighter, pulling the hood closer around her face. The crisp December air stung her cheeks and burned her eyes, sparkling snow-dust whirling around them.

It had been a quiet few weeks. Since their fight in the Room, Lucius and Fee seemed to have come to some sort of understanding. As promised, she no longer commented when he spent the night at Rionach's side, and he in turn acted as if nothing strange was going on. During the day, he was as cool and composed as ever, rarely looking Rionach in the eye and keeping the conversation light. She didn't complain; the semblance of normality was comforting.

At night, though, everything changed. He didn't always stay for the whole night, but he was always there when she fell asleep. If he did stay, he would lie down on the cot that the Room conjured beside her bed - though he never spent the entire night there. She never brought up the fact that it would probably save him some late-night fumbling to just fall asleep beside her._ I think he needs the pretense, _she thought wryly.

The first few times waking up in his arms, she was so shocked just to have someone _touching _her without any pain or malice involved that she simply stayed perfectly still, pretending to sleep until the room was light and Lucius stirred, silently rising and padding out of the room. Soon, she grew accustomed to having him there, soothing her at night when the nightmares clawed their way through her dreams, lying at her side in the mornings, until eventually, she found herself aching for his warmth when he opted to stay in the dormitories. It scared her, this new longing.

She wished he would tell her what he was thinking. She knew that she was nowhere near as beautiful as Fiorenza, but sometimes when he looked at her, a strange tingling feeling danced across her skin and her lack of beauty didn't seem to matter at all. But in the same breath he might refer to her as 'the werewolf' and act like she wasn't in the same room. She bitterly admitted to herself that the affectionate glances could be a complete fabrication of her imagination, but then..._why does he stay_? That self-loathing in his eyes, that gnawing guilt, could that be the only reason he watched over her, comforting her late into the night? To appease his own demons?

All she knew for certain was that she should be pestering him and Fee constantly for information regarding her lost family, but she couldn't seem to bring herself to do it, because the thought of leaving this place...leaving Lucius...was infinitely more terrifying than anything else .

"Your hair is very pretty today, Rionach," Fiorenza said approvingly, taking a break from tilting her head upwards.

"Thank you," Rionach replied, smiling a little, surprised at the compliment. During the week, she had little to do in the Room other than read, draw, and play with her hair. That morning she'd taken extra care forming small braids and wrapping them around her head, like a crown. Fee had given her an extra set of school robes to wear, her Slytherin badge transfigured into that of Ravenclaw. Rionach had also put on a sapphire blue cardigan that Fee had left in the wardrobe, thinking that perhaps the colour would bring out her eyes.

"Any reason in particular for looking so nice today?" Fiorenza asked casually.

She blushed, grateful to the cool air for lending an excuse for her reddened cheeks. "Nothing particularly," Rionach mumbled. She could tell that Fee didn't believe her, but said nothing. They went back to watching the players above, zipping impossibly fast through the freezing air.

The two players that Fee had explained were Seekers started speeding towards the ground, the Gryffindor one inching further ahead than his rival. Another Slytherin player shot down and seemed to lose control of her broom, knocking into the Gryffindor Seeker and causing the crowd to erupt in boos. A fowl was given to Slytherin. The Gryffindor crowd sounded furious, happy cheering turning to angry screams.

One of the Gryffindors with the big bat - Rionach forgot what they were called - sped towards Lucius. She looked for one of the huge black balls that he was supposed to be hitting, but saw none. He was flying too close. Lucius seemed to concur, and moved away, but the other Gryffindors were closing in to score points so he was forced back towards the threatening bat. Then, something happened, so quickly she couldn't quite follow, and Lucius was suddenly falling, cloaked in black, light hair billowing around him, falling impossibly fast through the glittering snow. A strange verse echoed in her mind, another remnant of her past; _And no marvel; for Satan himself is transformed into an angel of light._

Deep, echoing words reverberated through the Pitch. Lucius's form slowed as it drew nearer to the ground, snow gently shifting as his body lay slack. Everyone was quiet as he lay there, unmoving. Rionach started to run forward, Fiorenza calling her name.

The other players started to fly down to see what happened, but Rionach reached him first, throwing her body over his protectively. A nasty cut across his cheek was already surrounded with darkening bruises, and his breath rattled as he breathed.

"Oh God oh God oh God," she muttered over and over, brushing hair out of his face. "Lucius, wake up! Lucius!" She started to giggle hysterically, her mind reeling from the absurdity of it all. Begging her captor to stay alive, fingers tangled in his hair, bile rising in her throat.

_Is he still my captor?_

She didn't know anymore.

Watching his hands as he told her about the stars. Feeling his heavy breath on her hair in the morning. The ache in her bones whenever he left her. _Everything has become so blurred._

Her crazed laughter eased as his eyes slowly opened, the right one barely a slit due to the swelling of his cheek. "Rionach," he said hoarsely, lifting a hand to her face. She didn't realize she was crying until his fingers wiped away her tears. She blinked quickly, the salty liquid catching on her lip.

"Does it hurt?" she whispered, mentally slapping herself for asking so obvious a question. He grunted affirmatively, eyes bright, glassy. She looked around at the other players and teachers starting to run towards them. They looked like gray shadows, dimly jerking at the edge of her vision, while Lucius was pink cheeks and purple bruises and red mouth. "I have to go," she said regretfully, but somehow couldn't pull away. She felt like a sunflower, thick roots grinding into the soil, her face turned to the sun, soaking in his gaze.

An aloof, crooked smile that she'd never seen before spread across his face. Warmth bloomed in her chest, instant and hot, searing across her skin, sharply contrasting with the biting wind. "You look very pretty today," he said, grinning.

She somehow barked out a laugh. Maybe it was all a dream. _Maybe I'll wake up, and Pettigrew will be waiting for me at the door, and hard, reassuring pain will snap me back into reality._ But her hands _did _hurt, they were stiff with cold and turning red, and a beautiful boy was lying in front of her, the elegant planes of his pale face marred with blood and swelling. "I think you hit your head pretty hard. Fiorenza-"

"Fee is very beautiful," he murmured, and a sinking feeling took hold in her stomach, the warmth in her chest growing cold. He gave a little shrug, wincing at the movement. "But you...you have these eyes…" his hand fluttered from her cheek to her brow. She closed her eyes, swallowing shakily, as his fingertips trailed down her face, his middle finger following the line of her nose, brushing against her mouth and the tears gathered on her lower lip, finally resting on her chin.

Then she was being pulled away, and swarms of people were crowding in as Fee hissed in her ear that they needed to get out of there before one of the teachers looked at her too closely. Rionach turned to her, feeling the hysteria rising again. "What would happen to me if Lucius died?" she asked, fighting down giggles, tugging at the scarf around her neck. Her face felt like it was about to burn off.

Fiorenza halted in her quest to drag the other girl back to the castle, and seemed taken aback by the question, her perfect mask sliding from her face, violet eyes dark with concern. "He isn't going to die. You don't need to worry."

"I don't need to worry," Rionach repeated. Despite her best efforts, a small giggle erupted from her throat. She could still feel where his fingers touched her cheeks.

Alarm was now etched into Fiorenza's features, and she reached out a hand to steady Rionach as she swayed in the snow. "Really, Rionach. Our school Healer will have him patched up in a matter of hours. All will be well. I've seen him take bigger hits than this."

"Would you give me back to Abraxas if Lucius died?"

The question hung in the air for a moment. Her hysteria vanished as quickly as it appeared. Fiorenza tossed her scarf over her shoulder and looked down at the redhead calculatingly.

Rionach was suddenly struck by how tall Fee was. She felt like a mouse cowering next to a shimmering python who was debating on whether to eat her now or play with her first.

"No. I would not," she said finally. She turned to look at where several teachers were levitating Lucius's body and were leading it to the castle's entrance.

"Why not?"

She shrugged. "You're growing on me."

"No, I'm not," Rionach replied, thinking of her argument with Lucius several weeks prior.

Fiorenza sighed, clearly irritated. "I would not, because Lucius would not have wished it."

She could tell from the fierceness in those violet eyes, the rigidity of her body, that she was telling the truth, and when she turned back towards the castle, Rionach fell into step alongside her, the silence between them feeling strangely comfortable.

* * *

_Lucius_

He awoke slowly, his senses assaulted by the smells of the infirmary. He tried to shift in his bed, but the starched sheets were firmly tucked in, and his body was stiff and sore.

"Lucius." A soft, gravelly voice halted his struggling, and he looked over at Rionach's face, strange candlelit shadows thrown across her cheeks.

He leaned back, letting some of the tension ease from his body. "What happened?"

She looked somehow...put off by the question, but her face quickly cleared as she answered. "One of the Gryffindor...I forget what they're called, with the bat? Fee said his name is McGonagall. He says he was aiming for the ball, but hit your face instead. You fell."

Lucius hissed through his teeth, flashes of the past few hours running through his mind. "Was he at least kicked out of the game?" he asked hopefully.

"I don't know. I didn't stick around to see how it all played out," she admitted, staring at her hands. "Fiorenza said that she was going to...take care of him." She shivered slightly, remembering the strange glint in the other girl's eye as she'd wandered away, humming to herself.

Lucius grinned. "That's my girl." The werewolf frowned a little, but didn't comment.

"How do you feel?" she asked tentatively.

He brought his arms out from under the sheets and flexed his muscles carefully, then touched his face gingerly, flinching a little when his fingertips made contact with the welt on his cheek. "Not too bad, I think. McGonagall's lucky my neck didn't snap, though."

Rionach inhaled sharply, and he looked up, surprised. "What's wrong?"

"It's just...I'm not sure what I'd do, if something were to happen to you, you know? Right now, you're all I have," she mumbled. He watched her curiously, thinking that, despite having seen the girl nearly naked in a cage being tortured by his father, now, in this moment, she looked more vulnerable than ever.

Her hair fell across her face, reminding him of how, earlier, it had been pinned up and braided, and he'd said...sweet Salazar, he'd told her she was pretty...and she'd blushed beneath his gaze, closing her eyes at his touch…

He wriggled up on the bed, annoyed with how the sheets made his movements seem so disjointed, and adjusted a pillow behind him so he could be at eye level with the girl. She seemed so fragile in that moment, he felt that one wrong word could shatter her. He felt a strange desire to comfort, but didn't know how, never being comforted by others before. Thinking of how she calmed under his touch when he soothed her nightmares, he reached over, taking one of her hands in his, and her gaze flew up to his, eyes wide with shock.

"I'm not going anywhere," he said firmly, his thumb stroking the side of her hand. He felt light-headed and warm, his thoughts disconnected and nonsensical. He wondered briefly whether his head injury really was something to worry about, but decided he didn't care, because he was leaning forward towards Rionach and her eyes were closed and Gods, she smelled so good, he just wanted to breathe her in for the rest of his life-

"Lucius?" Eldred's voice cut through the fog, and the pair instantly leapt apart, looking anywhere but at each other. The other wizard strolled into view, his eyes quickly assessing the flushed cheeks and downcast eyes.

"Er...I brought you something to eat," Eldred said, continuing to look from one to the other.

"Thank you," Lucius said curtly, extending his hand.

Eldred gave him the paper bag filled with goodies, then stepped back awkwardly. "I don't mean to intrude, but I was meaning to ask you, Lucius…" his voice trailed off uncertainly.

"You're not intruding on anything," Lucius snapped, regretting his harsh tone when Rionach winced a little beside him, but continued on. "What's the question?"

"Fee invited all of us," at this he looked at Rionach as well, "to her family's home in Sicily for the break. What do you think? With the castle so quiet during the holidays, Rionach will probably be noticed if she's wandering around the halls alone."

"I won't be able to join you until the 24th," Lucius replied, scratching his jaw thoughtfully. At the girl's raised eyebrow, he added, "My birthday is the 22nd, and my father likes to make it into a large affair due to the winter solstice falling on the same day. Christmas Day isn't very important at my house. We honour the old pagan holidays."

"I forgot about that," Eldred said mildly, though he gave Lucius a pointed look, which the blond ignored. He knew what his friend was getting at, the unanswered question in his eyes hanging between them. _Are you going to be a Death Eater after your birthday? _Thankfully, Eldred kept his thoughts to himself. "But you will join, then?"

"Most likely. I'd rather spend as little time around my father as possible, at the moment," Lucius muttered. The other two said nothing; they both knew what sort of father Abraxas Malfoy was.

"Great! Well, I have to go send a letter...so…" Eldred turned to leave.

"Sending a lot of letters lately, Worple," Lucius cut in.

The other boy shrugged as he turned back to them. "I should let my parents know that I won't see them at Christmas."

Lucius looked at him suspiciously. Eldred never returned home during the break, and rarely corresponded with his family. He opened his mouth to voice his thoughts, but the other boy was already gone, disappearing out of the infirmary.

Rionach spoke up. "The full moon is the 23rd. What do I do if I'm with Fee somewhere in Italy?"

Lucius frowned, rubbing his brow. "I doubt I'll be able to join you until the 24th, so Fee is going to have to tie you up, I guess. Her parents are never around anyway, and I'm sure the house has some sort of cellar. I'll teach her a few binding hexes before you go."

Rionach frowned at the thought of being confined and bound in a cellar, but saw no alternative. "All right," she said, standing. "Fee said that they'll probably let you out of here tomorrow - will you come to the Room, then?"

Lucius nodded. "I'll see you tomorrow night."

Rionach gave him a small smile. "I'll see you then." She leaned over and squeezed his hand, briefly, and he watched her go, breathing in slowly to steady his trembling hand.

* * *

_Eldred_

He quickly ran up the steps to the owlery, and once there, pulled out a quill and some parchment, scribbling a quick note. It read:

_Growing closer, still keeping distance. Shouldn't be long now. E.W._

He tied the note to the leg of one of the school's owls, and watched it fly off into the night, a black shape against the bright stars.

* * *

**December 22nd, 1969 - Winter Solstice  
****Malfoy Manor, Lacock, Wiltshire**

_Lucius_

The Manor felt strangely quiet, the air thick and heavy. He watched himself adjust the sleeves of his robes in the mirror, the gilded silver frame remaining silent. He started at a blur of movement behind him, then partially relaxed when he realized his father had quietly stepped into his quarters. Abraxas moved directly behind him, his eyes barely visible over the top of Lucius's head.

"Father," he said in greeting. The old man did not respond for several moments.

"Do you know why we call you Lucius, my son?" Abraxas asked, standing behind Lucius while the younger man fiddled with the buttons on his robes.

"Because all of the men in our family are named after Roman rulers?" Lucius ventured.

Abraxas shook his head. "They are, but we named you Lucius especially, because we wanted you to have a brother."

Lucius raised his eyebrows, flicking his gaze from the mirror to his father. "A brother?"

Abraxas sat down on a chair, laying his cane across his lap. "Yes. You see, when Marcus Aurelius took the reins of power in Rome, he refused to become Emperor if his brother, Lucius Verus, could not also rule. And so, for the first time, Rome had two Emperors. Brotherhood is a truly powerful thing, and I wanted you to have it. I think, perhaps, having a brother would have made you...stronger."

Lucius stiffened, his hands halting their fumblings. "What makes you think I am not strong, father?"

"A father knows such things instinctively," Abraxas replied airily. His eyes refocused on Lucius and his tone turned brusque. "You were always a lonely child. No matter. Tonight you will be...tested. And if you do not comply, I will be _very_ disappointed in you." He rose from his chair, and pulled a glittering brooch out of his pocket. A silver serpent twisted around a bed of emeralds. Stepping in front of his son, he put his cane under his arm and attached the brooch to the front of Lucius's robes. At his father's request, he and the rest of the guests were wearing all white. "This is a very old family heirloom that my father passed to me at your age."

"Thank you," Lucius automatically responded. He turned towards the mirror and watched as his fingers traced over the serpent's body.

"I will meet you in the ballroom," Abraxas said curtly, and swept out of the room.

Lucius let out the breath that he'd been holding, shakily sitting down in the chair his father had been using. He put his elbows on his thighs and dropped his face into his hands, letting waves of relief roll over him. He didn't know. He would have said something by now if he knew. Rionach was safe.

He thought of her large, blue eyes staring back at him as he left. They seemed even more blue than usual, the cardigan she was wearing reflecting their colour. He hoped that everything went smoothly with the full moon tomorrow, and that Fiorenza and Eldred would take care of her. Taking a deep breath, he rose, and moved back to the mirror to braid his hair and check to make sure not a thread was out of place on his dress robes. They were a little tight in the shoulders; his chest was broadening, and he'd grown several inches in the past six months, but they were so well made that you could hardly tell.

_Tonight you will be...tested. And if you do not comply, I will be very..._disappointed_ in you. _Why did his father always have to be so insufferably cryptic? He shook his head, gave himself one more appraisal in the mirror, and turned on his heel to head towards the ballroom.

As he walked down the main hall, the glares of his ancestors' portraits even more loathsome. Anxiety felt like it was gnawing a hole through his belly. His father had been distant and cold, though he reminded himself that was hardly unusual, and his mother, apparently quite ill, had remained in her rooms. He fiddled with his cuff-links as he walked, wondering what waited for him on the other side of the manor.

He paused at the doors to the ballroom, listening to the tinkling of glasses, soft violin music and lilting laughter. Taking a deep breath, he pushed the heavy door forward, and stepped into the room.

The room was kept quite dark, the only light coming from massive, concrete bowls filled with fire that lined the walls. The flames reflected off the ice sculptures placed haphazardly around the room, depicting various Roman Gods and Goddesses. Elegantly dressed men drank and watched a group of young girls dancing in a circle around a woman who was sitting on an elaborate throne in the center of the room. The girls wore simple white dresses, hair unbound and entwined with flowers.

The only woman not dancing was Bellatrix Black, who sauntered over to Lucius as he stepped into the room. Her long, white dress gathered at her hips below the tight, leather bodice, and a red, silk shawl barely clung to the crooks of her arms, the fabric fluttering behind her like a stream of blood.

"My, what a lovely celebration Abraxas has put together for you, Lucius dear," she said, smiling coldly. Dark ringlets fell across her face as she looked up at him."You're a lucky boy to have such a doting father."

"Quite," Lucius replied stiffly. He focused on the woman in the center of the room, who appeared rather old, and very under-dressed for the occasion. She seemed to be wearing dirty rags, and long, gray hair fell across her shoulder in matted clumps. One side of her face was streaked with blood, and the rest of her was bruised and filthy. It looked as if she was trying to get out of the chair, but couldn't, and attempted to cry out to the bystanders, but no sound left her lips.

"Ungrateful little thing," Bellatrix commented, following his gaze. "Abraxas has gone out of his way to be a good host to it, and all it does is struggle and scream. I didn't mind, but it made some of the younger girls uncomfortable, so Dolohov silenced it."

"Who is she?" Lucius asked, struggling to keep his voice even.

"Oh? You don't know? This must be a surprise for you!" Bellatrix said gleefully, clapping her hands together. "It's name is Ophelia Ollivander. It's the wand-maker's Mudblood wife."

"Ah," Lucius said, understanding dawning over him. "Will I have to hurt…?"

"No no, this one isn't for you," Bellatrix replied, rolling her eyes. "How boring. At least...I don't _think _she's for you. Who knows what Daddy has planned, hmm? But as it happens, the Dark Lord was kept away this evening. He's recruiting giants in Lithuania. Your initiation task will be much more interesting than this, I assure you." Her teeth sparkled as she glanced back at him.

"Why is she here, then?" Lucius asked impatiently, twisting his serpent ring around his finger.

"Like I said, your father has prepared a _most _lovely celebration for you today," Bellatrix answered. "In honour of the Solstice, your father is reviving the ancient traditions of Saturnalia from the Romans. They would pick a slave, and-"

"And treat him as a King for a week," Lucius whispered, pure horror etched on his face. "And at the end of the week…"

"The slave is killed, of course! You are so good with history, Lucius. I'm sure your father would be proud," Bellatrix said approvingly, seemingly oblivious to his evident discomfort. "Of course, an entire week of indulging a Mudblood is too much for anyone to endure, so it's been fed and treated well today, given every luxury, and now...the fun begins."

The music stopped and the dancers stilled, parting to make way for Abraxas, who clunked forward, leaning heavily on his cane, robes trailing on the floor. He stood next to the throne, hardly glancing at the woman who glared at him from her confinement. Abraxas also wore white robes, a thick white linen cloak gathered about his shoulders, and white beads woven through his long, silver hair. He seemed to glow in the firelight, gray eyes flashing mercilessly.

"Friends, we are gathered here today in celebration!" The room erupted with gruff cheers and clinked glasses. Abraxas raised his hand, motioning for silence, and the room instantly quietened. "Today we honour not only the sacred day of the Solstice, but also the sixteenth birthday of my dear son, Lucius."

Bellatrix tittered happily and Dolohov strode over to clap Lucius on the back good-naturedly. Lucius repressed the urge to flinch, and instead grabbed a glass of champagne from a nearby floating tray, swallowing its contents in one gulp.

Abraxas continued with his speech, smiling wide. "Lucius is a good son. The Dark Lord himself has expressed great interest in his future, and regrets that he will not be attending this evening. However, fear not; for there will be plenty of entertainment to be had!"

Dark laughter rippled through the guests, and Lucius plucked another glass of champagne from the tray. Abraxas gestured towards the girls in white dresses. "I would also like to thank the Pureblood daughters that could join us this evening to perform the dance welcoming the return of the light, on this dark winter's day." There was a smattering of polite applause. "Finally, I would like to thank our honoured guest, Ophelia Ollivander, here to take her place as Queen for a night within the revered circle."

Abraxas leaned his cane against the throne, and waved his hands around quickly and elegantly, a shimmer of gold following his movements. Three flowers appeared, floating before him. A dahlia, a sprig of aconite, and a rose. "For you, my Queen," he said, smiling down at the old woman. She glared up at him, spitting towards his face, but it missed and he laughed, throwing back his head. "We have a spirited ruler! How fortunate!" The guests laughed with him, and he plucked the red dahlia from the air, letting it fall on the woman's lap. "For dignity," he said, smiling. Lucius heard Bellatrix snort beside him.

Next, Abraxas selected the sprig of purple aconite, twisting the stem in his fingers for a moment before letting it fall. "For misanthropy." Lucius felt cold, his eyes following the path of the flower. He wrenched his gaze back to the last blossom, a simple black rose suspended in the air.

"For death," Abraxas said simply, though instead of letting it fall as he did the others, he slowly plucked each petal off of the blossom, letting them fall around the throne, in the woman's hair, on her shoulders. When he was done, he let the naked stem fall into her lap.

The room was silent. Lucius could hear Bellatrix breathing heavily, mouth open in anticipation. She stepped forward, wand outstretched, a terrifying glint in her eye. "Please, Abraxas, if I may begin?"

Abraxas looked as if he were coming to a decision, and asked the guests, "Have we tired already of our Queen?" He was met with shouts of approval, so he stepped back, extending his arm towards the throne. The violin music started again, and the girls continued their dance around the mock queen. Bellatrix hissed out a spell that Lucius had never heard before. The old woman silently cried out in pain, released from her perch on the chair and flopping down onto the floor where she spasmed uncontrollably.

Bellatrix flicked her wand and Ollivander's limbs jerked up, dragging her to her feet, as if puppet strings were attached to her knees, spine and wrists. The girls never faltered in their dance around the chair, the prisoner following their movements around her throne in a gruesome parody. Lucius forced himself to watch, teeth clenched, terrified that if he showed the smallest sign of weakness, his father would force him to somehow participate.

"That's right, Mudblood. This is just a taste of what your blood-traitor husband is going to endure at my hands," Bellatrix said softly, muttering another foreign spell and watching coolly as the woman's hair was shorn off, falling around her in thick, gray clumps.

"Look, Lucius," Dolohov said casually, gesturing with his glass. "They are rather pathetic, no? Can you believe that such creatures believe themselves equal to _us_?"

Not trusting himself to speak, Lucius simply nodded, transfixed by the scene before him. His head felt heavy, the air thick. He could smell smoke from the fires, and the girls dancing seemed impossibly lovely and surreal next to the awful display of savagery in their midst. He drank his champagne steadily, reaching for another glass the second one emptied.

After a time, Bellatrix seemed to grow bored, and the other guests took turns, trying out various curses and throwing out increasingly creative insults towards the victim. Soon, all eyes were on Lucius, and he stood, frozen, staring at the old woman crumpled in front of the throne, bald and shaking in the firelight.

"It's your turn, Lucius," Abraxas commanded, handing his son a long, cruel-looking knife. The handle was made of a beautiful, dark wood, runes carved into its surface.

"Father, I- I can't do magic off school grounds," Lucius stuttered, his eyes flicking from the knife to the prisoner. He felt hot, and bleary-eyed, and he wondered how much champagne he'd had by now...

"I'm not telling you to use magic," Abraxas said coldly, his eyes dangerously dark. He roughly seized Lucius's hand and thrust the dagger into his palm. "But I am telling you to kill her. It's about time you proved your loyalty to the cause. Pity the Dark Lord won't be able to witness this himself, but there are plenty of witnesses." The double meaning was evident in his tone. Plenty of witnesses who would surely report back if it was seen that Abraxas Malfoy's only son was a coward who couldn't kill one measly Mudblood.

Shaking visibly, Lucius clasped the dagger tightly, approaching the woman slowly. When he was mere inches away, she threw herself at his feet desperately, clawing at the front of his robes.

"Please," she mouthed, silent words boring into his soul. "Please. Help me."

Her eyes were blue. So bright and clear, he could see himself reflected in the pupils. He raised the knife, looking above her eyes, over her head. She bowed her face, shoulders shuddering. He tried to will his arm to move, but it remained suspended in the air, trembling. _She's nothing. You don't even know her. Just lower the knife..._

Abraxas stepped forward, standing so close behind his son that Lucius could smell the old man's sickly sweet stench. "Remember what she is, my son. You must keep in mind all of the pain that will befall our people should the Mudbloods fail to be exterminated. Do you want to be responsible for their kind rising against us, causing true Magic folk to eventually fade away?"

Lucius managed only to shake his head slightly, not trusting himself to speak.

His father placed a hand on his elbow, leaning even closer, his breath wet on his son's ear. "It is unpleasant. I understand. But how else do you suggest we rid ourselves of the filth that has polluted our world?"

Lucius trembled, looking down at the quivering figure at his feet. He knew his father was right. _Then why is this so hard? _Beads of perspiration rolled down his face, and his heart hammered against his ribcage. "Is there no other way?" he whispered.

Abraxas's hand tightened on his elbow. "There is not." Three words, spoken so softly, but with such malice. Lucius swallowed slowly, trying to stay calm. _There is no other way. No other choice._

Lucius kneeled down, his father stepping away as he moved. He took the old woman's chin in his hand, tilting her face up to his. "I'm sorry," he mouthed, tears and sweat blurring his vision. She nodded, and seemed to be trying to appear serene, but he could still see the fear in her face. She didn't want to die.

He took a deep breath, then dragged the knife across her throat, gritting his teeth as he fought to keep the blade steady. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he mused at how much more difficult it was to cut through human flesh than he would have guessed. The old woman made a sick gargling noise, her eyes wide as blood poured down her front, then fell to the side, lifeless.

The room erupted. Amid the applause and cheers of the other guests, he heard Bellatrix distinctly say, 'Well, he could have dragged it out a _bit _longer."

He felt his father's hand on his shoulder, and the girls resumed their dance around them. The woman's eyes were open in death, now a dull, watery blue, gray hair littered around her. Thick, dark blood pooled onto the floor, drowning the rose petals, the dahlia and the aconite sprig floating on the surface. He thought of the man in the arena, throat torn out by the red wolf, and of a thin girl with a jagged scar across her face, and his hand, shaking, as bruises darkened along her throat…

"The first is always the most difficult, Lucius," Abraxas said, slicing through his thoughts, tightening his grip on his son's shoulder. "You have honoured the name of Malfoy this evening, and made the world we live in a little bit safer. It will get easier, with time." He turned his son towards him roughly. "Always remember that family is most important. Do you understand?"

Lucius nodded numbly, staring down at his hands. His right sleeve was tinged with red. It must have somehow dragged in the blood at the woman's throat. He surged forward, knocking his father's hand from him, and picked up a napkin, dabbing at the spot furiously. A little voice at the back of his mind muttered about the absurdity of trying to wipe away blood with a frilly cocktail napkin. But all he could think about was getting the blood out, cleaning himself of this mess. He needed to wash, to burn, needed to peel his entire skin off and step into a new shell, scorching his old self into ashes.

Excusing himself, he quickly walked to the closest lavatory, and leaned against the cold stone wall, breathing heavily. He killed someone. He killed a woman. He killed a woman who'd been tortured. But it was for the Cause. It had to be done...

He felt hot, claustrophobic. Remembering the serpent brooch on his chest, he ripped it off and threw it against the wall, where it clattered to the ground and seemed to hiss as it landed. Next, he threw off the outer layer of his robes and unclasped the top buttons of his shirt, leaning over the sink, staring at himself.

"Ophelia," he whispered, not recognizing the wild stare of the man looking back at him. "The most tragic of names. Ophelia."


	11. Chapter XI

**Chapter Eleven – Sweet Music**

* * *

_We thought we were running away from the grownups,  
__And now we are the grownups._

\- Margaret Atwood

* * *

**December 23rd, 1969 - Night of the Full Moon  
****Zabini Winter Residence, Pozzalo, Sicily**

_Rionach_

The sliver of pale, yellow light thinned and disappeared as Fiorenza slowly closed the door on her. She was alone, in Fiorenza's cellar. Her parents were at a Christmas party, and the house elves were ordered to keep away. Heavy chains, fastened to the ground, encircled her wrists and ankles. In the pitch dark, she felt panic, then resentment towards Fee and Eldred for leaving her alone. Fiorenza had yet to see her transform, and Eldred had never returned after the first time. She knew that they were scared. Their fear rolled off the sweat on their skin, filling her nose and causing her wolf to snort in disgust.

She closed her eyes and tried to bring to mind memories, whether they be of happiness or pain; anything to keep the panic at bay. She thought of the train ride, watching the castle recede into the early morning haze, Lucius sitting next to her, his thigh pressed against hers as he leaned back and slept, still tired from his ordeal during the Quidditch game. Even when her leg cramped uncomfortably, she kept it still, relishing his warmth.

While he slept, Lucius resembled an Adonis, pale hair falling across his face, the prominent nose and cheekbones drinking in the morning light. His neck, long and sinewy and elegant, tilted back, his tie loosened over a broadening chest, hands folded over his lap; hands that at once suit him yet seem out of place, long and broad fingers, rough with callouses formed from Quidditch training, contrasting starkly with the smoothness of his face and neck. A small muscle twitched in his jaw as he slept, his eyebrows knitting together. She resisted the urge to reach over and smooth the crease with her fingers, as if she could simply ease away his pain with a stroke of her hand.

Her chains clinked as she brought her hands to her face, rubbing at her eyes. Watching Fee and Lucius bid farewell to each other on the platform had _hurt,_ tendrils of despair seeping into her bones as she watched them face each other, both so striking, so magnificent, seeming lost in a moment all to themselves, paying no heed to the hundreds of students and parents weaving around and through them. They looked like gods, imperious and confident and so _right _together, she dark and dangerous with her long curls falling across violet eyes, thick lashes sweeping across milky cheekbones as she leaned in to brush his cheek with her lips before whispering something in his ear. Him, so light and fair, golden and tall, his movements majestic as he leaned in to accept her kiss, a hand resting on her waist. Rionach felt such jealousy at their easy intimacy, and inadequate at their incredible beauty.

She and Eldred had hung back, him chatting easily about his excitement over the upcoming holiday, she nodding along distractedly as she peered out from beneath the heavy hood of the cloak Fee had given her. Lucius had swept off without a backwards glance, gracefully avoiding the hoards of people like a long-legged antelope picking its way among a sea of rats. Fiorenza had ushered Eldred and Rionach towards the station's floo fireplace, and in a swirl of green flames they arrived in Pozzalo, Italy.

Mr. and Mrs. Zabini were distant and cold to the teenagers staying in their home. Fee's mother was tall, hard and striking, as beautiful as her daughter but in a more arresting, tense way. The angles of her face, collarbone and wrists were sharp and thin, not an inch of extra flesh on her body, giving her a lean, cat-like grace. She wore rich colours that draped artfully around her slim frame, heavy gold jewelry hanging from her ears, throat and fingers. Mr. Zabini was a large man who said little, standing a little behind his wife at all times. Eldred and Rionach were dismissed as soon as they were introduced. She had never been so aware of her place as when she was among the Zabinis.

Now, in the cellar, the familiar prickle was running along her skin; the full moon was about to rise. She closed her eyes, waiting for the pain to envelop her, cloud her senses, but this time, strangely, instead of her wolf speaking to her softly, flickers of warm emotion ran through her instead, bringing slivers of memories to the surface.

_Sitting in front of the Black Lake, the sun on my face, red and gold leaves falling around me. Hazy golden sun caressing my neck, my arms, as I stretch out next to Fiorenza. The smell of autumn filling my nose; decaying leaves, damp earth, spices, the last few wild roses. A strange sound escapes my lips; I realize with a jolt that I'm sighing blissfully._

Pain was creeping along her jaw, her eyes, her ears, and yet...it seems to be coming from so far away. She felt like she was floating above her body as another memory drifted into place…

_Waking up in the Room, feeling a heavy, comforting weight across my waist. Rich, lemony light bathing me in balmy warmth. I turn my head a little, careful not to move my hair too much. Lucius's face, turned down into the red tresses, the tension eased from his brow. The smell of cigarettes hanging in the air. A hard knot of thorned vines is twisting in my stomach, but the flower blooming in my chest feels so exquisitely wonderful that the pain hardly matters._

She watched her nails grow, the small, pale nail beds deepening and turning steel gray. The process was usually so agonizing, she was used to her wolf whispering soothingly in her ear, but she's not there, and so she slipped into another memory…

_His hands. Aristocratic, strong, at once rough and tender. The callouses on the pads of his fingers gently scraping down my face as he traces the path of my tears. The colour in his face, the brightness of his eyes, everything else seeming dull and lifeless in comparison. Those eyes, so full of anguish and loathing, but also longing and regret._

Tears blurred her vision, not from the transformation, but from the need building up inside her, the need to revisit that same memory over and over until she could almost taste the salt on her lip, feel the wind bite her cheek, see the unfamiliar softness in his face. But finally, the wolf was slipping into place, the moon high in the sky, and she began to recede unto herself, hiding away like a little lost girl gripping the bars of her ribcage, tightly closing her eyes against the world, feeling the heavy beat of her heart, yet seeing everything.

* * *

Fiorenza and Eldred were bickering at the top of the cellar stairs as dawn rose and the full moon dipped beyond the horizon. Eldred was bright red, glasses askew, and pointing violently at the door while stuttering out his words.

"She's _naked _Fiorenza! This should be obvious. Why are we even having this discussion?"

"Because you're supposed to be the big protector making sure the wild animal doesn't bite me! And why do you _insist _on calling me Fiorenza, Eldred? I've told you a thousand times to say Fee," the witch replied crossly.

"Fee is what Lucius calls you. Not me," Eldred insisted.

"Rionach says it too," Fiorenza retorted.

"She doesn't know better. And this is beside the point," the wizard pointed out, adjusting his glasses.

"You're the one with all the werewolf knowledge. What if she tries to bite me or something when I go down there?" Fiorenza asked angrily.

Eldred let out an exasperated sigh. "She won't. Gods...I wish Lucius was here."

"Well, he's not," Fiorenza said, her face softening a little. "Fine. I'll go. But you stay at the top of the stairs, and if I scream, you come down after me. Got it?"

Eldred nodded, pushing his glasses into his hair. Fiorenza gave him a small half smile. "With your hair all messed up, and your glasses off, you look pretty sexy, Worple."

The boy blushed furiously, shaking his head and staring at the ground. "Whatever you say, Fiorenza," he murmured, grinning a little as she rolled her eyes. "Besides, if she bit you in human form, you wouldn't turn into a werewolf anyway."

"Well _that's _comforting," Fiorenza muttered, and opened the door to the cellar, throwing a threatening glance back at Eldred as she descended the stairs, a robe on one arm and a candle in hand.

Once at the bottom, the yellow glow of the candle illuminated the small girl, who was curled up against the far wall, chains in place and hair falling over her face. "Rionach?" Fiorenza called out hesitantly, setting the candle down on the ground. The girl lifted her head a little, giving her a weak smile. The expression was so guileless, so heart-breakingly honest, that suddenly, all other anxieties faded away, and Fiorenza rushed to her side, draping the robe around the werewolf's shoulders.

"Can you walk?" she whispered, taking note of how the girl trembled beneath her touch.

Rionach started to move, grit her teeth, and stilled again. "In a moment."

Fiorenza nodded, and sat down next to her on the floor. The stones were cool and damp, and she felt a jolt of guilt run through her at the thought of the girl being left down in many other cellars, many other times, just like this one.

Rionach moved her arms to rub warmth into her sides, the chains clanking with the movement. Fiorenza swore softly, quickly leaning over to unlock the manacles. "Sorry, I forgot," she mumbled, shame flushing her cheeks.

Rionach looked at her curiously. "I don't think I've ever seen you blush before, Fee," she commented. Fiorenza glanced sharply up at her, but seeing only a small smile lacking any malice, she relaxed again against the wall.

"Zabini women are meant to be the epitome of poise, beauty and elegance," she said, a far-off look in her eye. "There is no room for blushing schoolgirls."

"That's a lot to live up to," Rionach commented quietly.

Fiorenza shrugged, looking into the other girl's eyes. "We all have our burdens to bear."

Rionach nodded, holding her gaze. The dark-haired girl was the first to break eye contact, standing and brushing off her robes in one fluid motion. "Take my hand," she gently commanded, holding out slim, pale fingers, a silver butterfly ring catching the candlelight.

The werewolf clasped her hand, and held the grasp for a moment, marvelling at the strength in such delicate, pretty fingers. Then she was hauled up, and secured the robe around her body before leaning on Fiorenza for support.

As the two shuffled towards the stairs, Fiorenza muttered, "I'm beginning to see why Lucius likes you so much. You never say anything unnecessary, and you listen like it's all you've ever wanted to do."

She could almost feel Rionach grinning beside her. "And I'm starting to see why Lucius likes _you._ You have a good heart, Fee. And you're the most loyal person I've ever encountered."

Fiorenza gritted her teeth. "Don't say that in front of too many people. You'll start rumours that the Sorting Hat put me in the wrong house. Nothing worse than being associated with Hufflepuffs." She shuddered, and Rionach laughed out loud.

"Your secret's safe with me," she promised. They shared a little smile, and though small, it was brimming with budding trust and potential friendship.

* * *

**December 24th, 1969 - Christmas Eve**

_Lucius_

He straightened his shoulders, adjusted the folds of his travelling cloak, and smoothed his hair before stepping through the door of the Zabinis' cottage. The air, though much warmer than in Wiltshire, was still chilly, and the warmth of the house instantly wrapped around his cool hands and cheeks. Strangely, no one was at the door to meet him, and he frowned a little in annoyance.

It was a cozy yet tastefully decorated space. The reddened stucco walls were covered with paintings of flowers and trees, and the furniture was muted tones of brown, red and yellow. A house elf popped into view as Lucius came through the entryway, so he handed over his coat and luggage without a word.

"Mistress and her friends are in the drawing room, Sir. Would Master Malfoy like Janey to take him?" the elf asked, eyes downcast.

"That won't be necessary. This place is so small, I hardly think I will have any trouble finding them," Lucius replied shortly before stepping further into the room. Soft piano music drifted towards him as he moved down the hall, the notes sweet and somehow...sorrowful. As he rounded a corner into the drawing room, he stopped dead, transfixed by the scene before him.

Fiorenza was lying languidly on a daybed, draped in purple silk, an arm covered in silver bangles resting on her forehead. Her eyes were closed, her hair fanned out around her. She was the height of refinement, resembling an artist's tableau, unmoving save for the slight rise of her chest. In the opposite corner, Eldred was lounging against a bookcase, wearing loose, comfortable clothes, his hair surprisingly combed and his glasses perched on his head. His eyes were also closed, and his hands moved of their own accord, following the notes of the music.

Mrs. Zabini sat in a chair near Eldred, and was the only one to notice Lucius enter. She put a long, thin finger to her lips as her eyes met his. She, too, was draped in silk, but it was a rich green, and a wide gold sash was wrapped around her waist. Lucius gave her a small nod, and finally let his eyes travel to the center of the room.

Rionach was sitting at a piano, her back to him, her tiny frame enveloped in a sharp, black blouse, the sleeves rolled up to her elbows. Her hair was unbraided, falling down her back. The blouse was tucked into a pair of loose, wide-legged black and white pinstriped trousers, and her feet were bare as they moved between the pedals beneath the instrument. Her hands, so pale and smooth, small doves fluttering across the keys, were playing such sweet music as they moved impossibly fast, her body swaying as she moved from one end of the keys to the other. Her hair, her clothes, her _posture,_ was so out of place and yet so perfect, the contrast between her and the Zabini women astounding.

As she continued to play, Lucius breathed deeply, his chest constricting strangely with the swell of the music, his vision blurring around the edges until it seemed he was peering through a narrow tunnel, and at the end only a delicate girl with glowing red hair was visible. His breath caught at the radiance of the moment, at the vibrance of _her_, the rest of the world melting away.

When her fingers finally stilled, the room was quiet, each listener wrapped in their own thoughts and dreams. After a few moments, Mrs. Zabini stood and clapped slowly, walking towards Lucius as her hands moved.

"Welcome to our winter home, Lucius. I trust you had no problems finding us?" As she spoke, Rionach's head whipped around, her eyes resting on the blond boy beneath the archway. He was struck by the lightness of her expression, as if the music had wiped away the last of the lines of hurt and anguish from her face, transforming her into someone new, and happy, and beautiful.

Lucius cleared his throat awkwardly as he realised everyone in the room was staring at him, waiting for him to respond. "No problems at all, thank you," he managed to get out, shifting from one foot to the other uncomfortably.

"I apologize for not receiving you formally; you must excuse my terrible manners. I simply could not interrupt your lovely friend here while she entertained us," she said, gesturing towards the piano and the girl still sitting at its bench. Rionach flushed at the compliment, but held his gaze.

"No forgiveness necessary. I understand that you were preoccupied," Lucius replied stiffly, dropping his gaze from Rionach's. Her eyes were so blue, so like the old woman's...images of blood pooling around black rose petals and gray hair were haunting his mind, and he ran a hand through his hair, frustrated. "I trust you and Mr. Zabini are well?"

His hostess inclined her head, her expression neutral. "Of course. And your parents are in good health, I hope?"

"They are, thank you," he answered politely. He felt a twinge of impatience at the niceties being exchanged; he wanted to step away, to stop being the focus of attention.

As if sensing his annoyance, Mrs. Zabini looked over at her daughter and flickered her finger towards Lucius, the emeralds on her hands glinting as she moved. "Fiorenza, will you show Lucius to his room? I have several appointments in town that I simply cannot be late for. Susi, was it? That was lovely. I had no idea Fiorenza had such an accomplished friend keeping her company." Her daughter stiffened a little at the veiled insult, but flashed her teeth as she smiled and swept out of the drawing room in a swirl of purple silk, Lucius, Eldred and Rionach trailing behind her.

They were silent as they walked, none wanting to speak until safely within the relative privacy of the bedroom. Once inside a large room painted a warm brown with brightly coloured furnishings, one side of the room evidently taken over by Eldred's things, Fiorenza closed the door firmly, turning to Lucius with a smile. "Well? What do you think? An astounding hidden talent, non?"

Lucius nodded, keeping his eyes away from Rionach's. He couldn't look into their icy blue depths without remembering Ophelia, dying under the blade his father gave him. He kept himself busy by rummaging through the luggage that had been set at the end of his bed. "Yes. You've been painting as well, haven't you? Perhaps you were the daughter of artists."

Rionach fell onto the bed, her hair spilling over the edge. Fiorenza joined her, the purple silk of her dress draping a little onto the smaller girl, her dark curls mixing with the red tresses. Lucius took note of their newfound camaraderie; it seemed that certain differences and anxieties had been absolved during his absence.

"It was the most incredible feeling," Rionach murmured, staring up at the chandelier above the bed. "Fee was playing for her mother, and then my fingers started to imitate hers, in the air, as if they were separate from the rest of me. Then when I sat at the piano, this feeling of such _rightness _washed over me...it felt as if all my life, I've been waiting to sit in front of that piano."

"You were wonderful," Fiorenza said warmly, squeezing the other girl's hand gently. Rionach smiled back at her happily. Lucius felt an odd twinge of jealousy at the exchange, and quickly fought it down, though not before a strange thought passed through his head. _I'm supposed to be the only one to make her smile like that._

"How was your birthday?" Eldred asked casually, sitting on his own bed and looking at Lucius expectantly.

"Uneventful," Lucius said shortly, hoping his voice sounded even.

"No special guests?" the other boy asked, watching him critically.

"None. One in particular was invited but he was...detained, elsewhere," Lucius said firmly.

Eldred raised his eyebrows. "Oh."

Fiorenza rolled onto her stomach, propping her chin up on her hands. "What are you boys talking about? What guest?" she asked, brow furrowed.

"It's not important," Lucius said dismissively. "The party was very grand, I received plenty of nice gifts from my parents."

"Oh! That reminds me…" Fiorenza leapt off the bed and exited the room quickly. Lucius barely had enough time to ask where she went when she was back, holding a book-shaped present wrapped in silver paper. "Happy birthday, Lucius!"

"I'll grab mine as well," Eldred said brightly, looking through his bag. He brought out a similarly shaped gift, wrapped in brown paper and tied with string. Lucius took both presents with a small smile, and sat on the bed next to Rionach to open them. She sat up and leaned a little against his shoulder as he tore the wrappings, the warmth of her arm distracting him from the task at hand. He moved away a little so they no longer touched, and tried to ignore the small intake of breath that escaped the girl as he did so.

Fiorenza had given him a first edition copy of _Magick Moste Evile _by Godelot, and it was a true thing of beauty, the edges of the pages trimmed with gold, and the cover made of well preserved blood-red leather. Lucius gave his friend a peck on the cheek and a whispered "Thank you" in her ear, his fingers lovingly running over the binding of the book.

Eldred's present was, unsurprisingly, a book as well, titled _Moste Potente Potions, _written by Phineas Bourne. Lucius immediately started thumbing through the pages, his eyes widening at some of the recipes listed. "By the gods, Eldred, this is an excellent gift," he whispered, running his hand over the ingredients for polyjuice potion. "Wherever did you find it?"

"Oh, I have connections," Eldred replied proudly. Fiorenza gave him a strange look, which he ignored. "What time is it? Shouldn't we be getting ready to go out?"

"We're going out?" Lucius asked, an eyebrow raised.

Fiorenza grinned at him, nodding enthusiastically. "It's the night of the Luminari. We'll go out for piles of delicious Italian food, then join in the celebrations. The Muggles here all light bonfires to keep the baby Jesus warm."

Lucius wrinkled his nose. "That's a rather barbaric tradition, is it not?"

Fiorenza rolled her eyes. "Because your precious Dark Lord has always been so civilized, hm?"

Lucius instantly paled, and had to take a deep breath, as if the air had been knocked out of him. His hand trembled slightly, and he closed it into a fist in order to keep it still. His memories of the Solstice celebration were too fresh, and Fiorenza's words had hit a nerve. "His methods, while a bit...medieval...are a means to an end," he muttered, looking down. A tiny, delicate hand wrapped around his fist, and he looked up in surprise at Rionach, who was peering at him with eyes that were wide with concern. He quickly looked away and jerked his hand from beneath hers, trying to ignore the hurt that flitted across her features.

Eldred was frowning, his arms tight across his chest. "I suppose we all do what we must for the greater good," he said cryptically.

Fiorenza shook her head and strode towards the door purposefully. "This conversation is much too dark for a night as merry as this. Come, Rionach. Let's go get ready, and leave the boys to their black thoughts."

The werewolf silently stood and stepped past Lucius, the fabric of her trousers brushing against the fist that was still resting on his knee. She paused, looking back at him before leaving the room, but he kept his eyes focused on the floor, and she followed Fiorenza out without a word.

* * *

_Rionach_

Fiorenza rummaged noisily through her jewelry boxes, alternately holding up various sparkling pendants and chains to the light and shaking her head with a frown before placing it back in the box. Finally, she produced a pair of sapphire earrings that were formed into perfect tear-drops, simple, yet impressively sized stones.

"These, I think," she said confidently, walking over to where Rionach was fiddling in front of a mirror. "What do you think?" she asked, holding one earring up to the side of the other girl's face, admiring how the colour reflected the blue of her eyes.

"Fee, they're beautiful, but I couldn't," Rionach said firmly, carefully pushing away the other girl's hand.

"Well I'm not giving them to you, I just think you should wear them tonight," Fiorenza stubbornly replied, moving her hand back to the other girl's ear and quickly looping the thin wire through her earlobe before she could protest.

"I'm sure I'll just lose them," Rionach insisted, raising a hand to dislodge the pendant.

Fiorenza caught Rionach's hand in her own, meeting the red-head's eyes in the mirror. "You will be dining, in public, with a Zabini and a Malfoy. I'm sure Eldred will be wearing something of Lucius's. Now, these are mine, and I want you to wear them," she countered, leaving no room in her tone for argument. Rionach sighed, and Fiorenza smiled as she looped the other earring through the opposite ear. She moved behind the werewolf, placing her fingertips at the girl's temples and gently moving her head side to side, so the earrings caught the light.

Rionach admired the blue jewels dangling from her ears, allowing herself a small smile of appreciation, and closed her eyes at the warm feeling slithering across her skin. Fiorenza's gentle touches were yet another reminder that her old life was gone, a thing of the past, and these small gestures of intimacy meant more to her than any precious stones ever could.

"Let me do something for you," she said suddenly, her eyes snapping open. Fiorenza raised an eyebrow at her in the mirror. "I'm wearing your jewels, your dress, your shoes. I could fix your hair?" she asked hopefully.

For a moment, she thought she'd said the wrong thing, Fiorenza's expression was so surprised and almost weary. Instead, though, the other girl smiled wide, nodding her head once. "I rarely put my hair up - there's so much of it, and I don't have the time. Could you braid it, like you did yours that day for the Quidditch match?"

Rionach nodded, and pulled up a stool from the corner of the room, gesturing for Fiorenza to sit down. The taller girl obliged, gracefully curling her legs under her, tucking in the short fabric of her little black dress and adjusting her thigh-high stockings. Rionach started by brushing out the dark, silky strands, marvelling at how the hair felt in her hands. "Fee, I have a question."

"Ask away," Fiorenza murmured, leaning back with her eyes closed.

"The three of you always talk about how much you dislike Muggles, but half your closet looks like Muggle clothing," Rionach remarked, gathering one section of hair and starting to braid.

Fiorenza gave a little shrug. "Well, on nights like tonight, we have to blend in. It wouldn't make sense for us to go traipsing around a Muggle city in full-on witches robes."

"True. But all the clothes you gave me look Muggle-made, and even you often wear similar things at school when you don't have to wear robes," Rionach pointed out, securing one of the braids against her head with a pin.

"Well, I'm afraid you've discovered my weakness," Fiorenza said gravely, and gestured towards the drawer of one of the nightstands. "Look in there."

Rionach obliged, and pulled out several magazines with glamorous-looking women on the cover. She immediately realized the pictures weren't moving, and raised an eyebrow at Fiorenza.

"I love Muggle fashion," Fiorenza confessed, sighing. "I know it seems hypocritical, but...Muggle clothes are just so much more inventive, and fun! Women in the wizarding world only ever wear long, buttoned up dresses made of thick, suffocating fabric." She peered up at Rionach, who was now back to standing behind her, a section of hair in hand. "Better not tell Lucius. His family is infinitely more strict than mine, and he complains wholeheartedly whenever he's forced to wear Muggle clothes."

"Duly noted," Rionach replied, pinning up the last of the braids. "All done. What do you think?"

Fiorenza stepped over to the mirror, and smiled wide, reaching up to gently touch the braids with her fingertips. "Gorgeous. Thank you."

Rionach beamed, and went to stand behind her. Fiorenza in black, tall, simple, elegant, Rionach in gray, petite, and sparkling. The taller girl gave a wry grin to their reflections. "I suppose we should rejoin the boys, hm? Hopefully they've lightened up a bit since we left them."

* * *

When the girls stepped down to the entryway, heels clipping along the wooden floorboards, the boys were already standing near the door, sharing a flask of what was most likely firewhiskey, and laughing jovially at a shared joke. Eldred lounged easily with a leather jacket thrown over his shoulder, while Lucius stood a little more stiffly, unused to the types of fabrics Muggles wore. They looked up as the girls entered, the laughter dying on their lips.

Lucius already knew Fiorenza was lovely; Merlin, the entire wizarding world knew. But Rionach, ye gods, looked so different. She smiled easily as Fiorenza leaned over to whisper something in her ear, and laughed out loud as the other girl pulled away, giving her a playful jab with her elbow. She stood straighter, and her neck seemed longer, her hair shinier. She met his gaze proudly, only faltering a little when he didn't look away. She raised her chin, almost daringly, challenging him with her eyes.

Eldred broke the silence, letting out a low wolf whistle. "Fiorenza! Look at you!" he said, grinning, and she smiled at him widely, her cheeks turning pink. Rionach took note of the other girl's flushed face with interest, looking from the dark-haired wizard to her new friend and back again.

Fiorenza did a small twirl, showing off her soft, womanly curves. "Rather scandalous, isn't it?"

Lucius recovered, tearing his eyes away from the red-headed girl. "I would expect nothing less from you, Fee," he said, rolling his eyes. Eldred grabbed Fiorenza's coat, an almost obnoxiously large white furry thing, though it looked quite stylish as soon as it slipped around her shoulders.

Lucius automatically grabbed the coat set out for Rionach, but as she approached, he froze, somehow unable to move his arms to offer her the garment. She looked at him questioningly, and he stood, transfixed by her blue eyes, mesmerized by the small amber flecks that swam in the irises. A flash of red caught his eye, and he tore his gaze down to below her chin, where, to his horror, a thin red line started to form along her neck, splitting open her throat in a torrent of crimson fluid.

"NO!" Lucius leapt forward, a strangled noise erupting from his throat, knocking back the small girl as he lunged for her throat to stop the bleeding. She hit the ground hard, surprised, his hands pressing the coat against her neck. "Oh gods, not you, you can't die on me-"

"LUCIUS!" Rionach had quickly recovered from the shock of the fall and held his wrists firmly, stopping his frantic movements. He froze on top of her, looking down at her smooth, creamy white neck. Not a drop of blood to be seen.

"You...I thought I saw…" Lucius crawled back onto his knees, putting his hands on his face.

Rionach sat up, reaching her hands out to his, bringing them away from his eyes. "Lucius. I'm all right. See?" She brought one hand to her chest, and his breathing slowed as he felt the steady, reassuring beat of her heart beneath his palm.

Fiorenza stepped forward, placing a hand on Lucius's shoulder. "Lucius...what happened at your birthday party?"

He shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut and withdrawing his hand from Rionach's chest. "Nothing. It was nothing. It's just a lack of sleep…"

Fiorenza frowned down at him. "If you're sleeping so poorly that you're having waking nightmares, that's serious, Lucius. You should see a Healer."

Lucius sighed, standing and undoing his hair, running a hand through the blond strands before re-tightening the ribbon around them. "I'll see Pomfrey once we're back at school."

He reached out to grab Rionach's coat from the floor, but Fiorenza gripped his shoulder again, staring at him fiercely. "Promise?"

Lucius nodded. "I promise."

Rionach quickly slipped into her coat, then stepped back, watching Lucius carefully. "We don't have to go out tonight, if you're not up to it-"

"I'm fine," Lucius snapped. Seeing the werewolf stiffen, he softened his tone, offering his arm. He looked back at her, avoiding her eyes and looking above her head. "Really. I'd like to be...distracted, tonight."

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her nod, and the four stepped out of the house. Eldred, closing the door behind them, leaned against it a little before returning to Fiorenza's side; he hadn't said a word during the entire ordeal, and felt a horrible ache in his stomach, the guilt he'd hidden so deep starting to gnaw its way out.

* * *

Several hours later, bellies full, plenty of wine and whiskey consumed and the unsettling event in the entryway almost forgotten, Eldred, Lucius, Fiorenza and Rionach stood next to a particularly large roaring fire, relishing in the heat it gave off and admiring the performers dancing in the streets. Someone behind them was playing music, and children were clapping their hands excitedly whilst bouncing around the dancers.

Eldred, feeling particularly confident thanks to the amount of alcohol he'd consumed and the expensive clothes Lucius had leant him, stepped in front of Fiorenza with a flourish, extending a hand out to her while pushing his glasses up to his hair. "Would the lady care for a dance?" he asked roguishly, wriggling his eyebrows in a way that he probably thought was enticing but caused the other three to snort into their hands.

Fiorenza dipped into a low curtsy, placing her hand in his. "The pleasure is all mine," she replied with a wink, then squealed as Eldred roughly pulled her into the street, twirling her sloppily among the children, though Fiorenza was so naturally elegant that it hardly seemed awkward at all.

Rionach giggled, though a hiccough abruptly halted her sounds of merriment. "Wine is a wonderful thing," she said dreamily, leaning against Lucius.

The blond raised an eyebrow, looking down at the pile of red hair that barely reached his shoulder. "Am I correct in assuming this is your first encounter with that delightful beverage?"

Rionach nodded against his side, grinning wide. "That I know of!" She leaned forward a bit too far, and Lucius hastily brought his arm around her shoulders to steady her against him. When she seemed less in danger of pitching forward, he dropped his arm back behind him.

"Why'd you leave?" Rionach asked between hiccoughs, looking up at him pleadingly.

"I didn't leave. I'm right here," Lucius replied, keeping his gaze on Fiorenza and Eldred.

"No I mean...why did your arm leave?" Rionach asked quietly, turning her head back to the fire. "When we're in the Room, you keep your arm around me, but now…" She shrugged against him. "Are you...embarrassed, of me?"

Lucius's body went rigid, and he said nothing, furiously staring ahead.

"Lucius...Lucius, _look _at me!" she insisted, raising a hand to his chin and jerking his face down to hers. Smoky gray eyes met icy blue, and despite his taught composure, he swallowed nervously at her touch, longing written in her gaze.

"Are you embarrassed by me?" she asked again, hurt clearly reflected in her stare.

Lucius closed his eyes, breathing in the smoke of the fire and her fresh scent, always tinged with sweetness. "No. I'm not embarrassed."

She watched him carefully, the drunken haze lifted as the intensity of the situation was magnified. "You're afraid, then."

"Yes," he whispered, keeping his eyes shut. He couldn't lie to her. He wasn't sure he could ever lie to her again.

"What are you afraid of?" she asked softly. Her hand moved from his chin to his cheek, her touch unbelievably soft, tracing the lines of his face.

"I'm afraid…" he stopped, unsure how to explain, unsure if he _should_ explain. He knew that he should step away now, shatter her hopes, ignore the heavy beat of his heart, but he was too selfish, and he knew it would break him to hurt her again.

"I'm afraid that if I start touching you, I'll never be able to stop," he said, so quietly, his words barely lifted above the crackle of the fire, the beat of the music.

He opened his eyes, and she leaned forward, and for a moment he thought she might kiss him, and he wanted her to, more than anything he'd ever wanted in his life, but instead she moved up on her toes and her lips brushed against his ear. He closed his eyes in relief and regret.

"Dance with me," she whispered, and he nodded against her temple, his hands travelling down to her waist, and then they were dancing, white and red hair blurring in the firelight, the horrors of their lives melting away with each stroke of the violin and clap of their hands. After a few songs, they would switch partners, sometimes with their friends, sometimes with the strangers in the streets, but before they went home, Rionach danced once more in Lucius's arms, a cigarette dangling from his fingers, her face heavy against his chest, the moon hanging low and bright above them.


	12. Chapter XII

**Chapter Twelve – Promises**

* * *

_At last, the skies above are blue.  
__My heart was wrapped up in clover,  
__The night I looked at you._

From the song **At Last** performed by Etta James

* * *

**December 25th, 1969 - Christmas Day  
****Zabini Winter Residence, Pozzalo, Italy**

_Lucius_

He woke up with a groan, running his tongue over dry, chapped lips, bending stiffness out of the joints of his fingers and neck. Eldred let out a matching noise in the bed a few feet away, and the blond blearily looked over at his friend, grinning at the disheveled state of his hair and twisted clothes of the night before.

"Morning, Worple," he croaked out, his voice incredibly hoarse. "Janey," he commanded, and the house elf appeared instantly at the foot of his bed. "Water."

The elf nodded and returned a few seconds later with goblets of water, as well as some hangover potion, for both wizards. Lucius smirked over at his friend. "Mrs. Zabini keeps her home well stocked."

Eldred snorted between long gulps from his goblet. "It's not for her. You should've seen her husband the night before you got here. That man can hold a ridiculous amount of firewhiskey."

Lucius shook his head, mouth tight. "I hope my children never look at me the same way that we look at our parents."

Eldred contemplated his water for a moment, and spoke into his goblet. "But surely our parents know best, when it comes down to it? Not mine...my father is a useless drunk...but your father is so widely respected…"

Lucius raised an eyebrow, shooting his friend a curious glance. "I didn't realize you held my father in such high esteem."

"I don't," Eldred mumbled. "I just think that he probably knows what's best for you."

Lucius's brow furrowed as he stared at the other wizard. "I suppose."

"Cheers to that, then," Eldred said brightly, obviously attempting to change the subject. Lucius shrugged and raised his goblet when Eldred walked over to his bed.

As their goblets clinked, the bedroom door creaked open, and two heads, one covered in tousled dark curls, the other sporting a long red braid, poked around the doorway.

"You two back at it again already?" Fiorenza asked disbelievingly, eyes wide.

Eldred laughed. "Water, Fiorenza."

"Ah. Good boys," she said, grinning as she and the werewolf fully stepped into the room. "Rionach and I feel simply marvelous this morning, don't we, dear?"

Rionach smiled mischievously, throwing an arm around Fiorenza's shoulders. "Better than ever!" she declared, and the two collapsed into giggles.

Lucius felt a twinge of annoyance at the girls' shared joke, as well as the way Rionach was holding onto Fiorenza. He shook his head to clear it, taking another sip of water. _This is ridiculous, _he thought to himself. _You don't own the girl. _That thought alone was enough to make him check his jealousy, and he cleared his throat loudly, causing the room's occupants to look over at him expectantly. "If you two are quite finished acting like a couple of twittering pixies, perhaps we could move on to breakfast?"

Fiorenza rolled her eyes at his grumpy tone and turned to the door. "Come on. There's coffee and pastries downstairs." She and Rionach quickly left. Lucius and Eldred changed out of their rumpled clothes of the night before and into more comfortable loungewear, then headed down to join the girls.

* * *

Two hours, four coffees, and countless Torrone alle mandorle and Biscotti di Pasta di Mandorle later - Eldred exclaiming, "I could eat these all day, every day!" whilst wiping almond nougat from the corners of his mouth - the four sat around a table outside in the unseasonably warm weather, morning sun chasing the chill of the night away and an outdoor fireplace keeping their fingers and toes toasty.

Fiorenza pulled her burgundy wool sweater tighter around her shoulders and tilted her face up to the warmth, sighing happily. "It's not quite as warm as I'd like, but it's much lovelier than Scotland, isn't it?" she said dreamily, and her friends made content sounds of agreement. "Presents, then?" she said brightly, and called for the house elf.

"Won't your parents mind you opening these before they're awake?" Eldred asked, eyeing the massive pile that materialized on the table.

Fiorenza snorted. "They didn't even come home last night."

Rionach looked startled. "They aren't going to spend Christmas with their only daughter?"

Lucius and Fiorenza exchanged a knowing look. "Parents in Pureblood society tend to take a more...relaxed approach to parenting," Fiorenza answered, selecting a package wrapped in green and silver. "We might see them once more before we leave."

"That seems so strange," Rionach said with a frown, seeming lost in thought.

"How would you know?" Lucius asked, a little more sharply than he meant for it to sound.

Rionach looked down, tracing the design painted into her ceramic mug with her finger. "I suppose it sounds silly to you. But I remember...comforting smells, like cinnamon and apples, and a mother, I think, serving me something warm...and a father, laughing at...at..." Her eyes closed tightly, her face scrunched up, and she shook her head vehemently. "It's gone. I don't remember," she said sadly.

Lucius instantly felt guilty for bringing up the subject, and felt worse when Fiorenza shot him a furious glare. He awkwardly picked up a small package wrapped in blue paper and handed it to the red-haired girl, his serpent ring glinting in the sun as he did so.

Rionach looked up at him, the full force of her blue gaze focused on him. He swallowed nervously, trying to keep the images of the old woman buried. "It's just something small," he muttered, turning away.

She opened the present carefully, taking care not to rip the paper too forcefully. Fiorenza and Eldred looked over curiously, their own presents still in their hands. Beneath the paper was a small black box, and when Rionach opened the box, a small gasp escaped her lips.

"Lucius…" she breathed, that one word filled with such emotion that he closed his eyes, willing the moment to last forever. When he opened them, she was holding a delicate gold comb, the edge carved with flowers and leaves.

"Do you like it?" he asked hoarsely, clearing his throat quickly. He wasn't sure why his voice wasn't working properly. Fiorenza was giving him a hard look, and he took a long drink of coffee.

"It's the most beautiful thing I own," she said truthfully. "How do I…?"

"Here…" Lucius stood up and stepped behind her, and picked up her braid with one hand. "May I?"

Rionach nodded, and he swiftly unraveled the braid and swept her hair to one side. He was glad her head was between him and his friends; they couldn't see his trembling fingers. He gathered the hair on the left side and deftly twisted it up, sliding the comb into the twist and securing the hair firmly.

"It's enchanted to stay in place until you remove it," he said as he stepped back.

Rionach twisted her face around to him, and she placed a hand on his, squeezing it lightly. "Thank you."

He nodded, and went back to his seat. Fiorenza had an amused expression on her face. "I didn't know you were so skilled with hair accessories, Lucius."

Lucius shrugged, leaning back and casually crossing his ankles. His mind drifted to hazy memories of being a young boy, perched on his mother's bed, watching her slowly run a brush through her long, dark hair, counting the strokes softly as she gave him a small smile in her vanity mirror. When he turned eleven, Abraxas had decided that he was too old for such frivolous activities, and forbade him from entering his mother's quarters.

All he said, with a small smile, was, "It's a good day, then, when I can surprise even the illustrious Fiorenza Zabini."

Fiorenza snorted, reaching over to cheekily flick Lucius's chin. "Savour the moment while you can."

Rionach watched the exchange quietly, her knuckles turning white as she gripped the arms of her chair. Fiorenza turned to her, missing the tension in her body, eyes travelling up to her hair. "The comb suits you wonderfully. It highlights the gold strands in the red."

Rionach blushed, her hands relaxing as she looked down at her coffee, and quickly pulled out three brown packages from under the table, each rectangular and thin. "I couldn't buy anything, obviously, but...well, I hope you like them," she mumbled.

Fiorenza opened hers first, letting out a light, tinkling laugh as the paper fell away. "Oh, Rionach!" she exclaimed, swooping out of her chair and planting a kiss on the other girl's cheek. "I love it!" She held up the framed drawing for everyone to see. It was of a laughing Fiorenza, looking very similar to how she looked now, hair whipping around her face as she looked towards the lake. Her right hand was touching her neck, the butterfly ring she always wore caught in her hair.

"I'm glad you like it," Rionach said, pleased, touching her cheek where Fiorenza had kissed her. Lucius frowned at the affectionate gesture, and turned his attention to his own present. His was a drawing, also, and he looked down at it, face still, his voice caught in his throat.

In the drawing, he slept, a sheet curled in his hand and his face half concealed by his forearm. It was a perfect rendition, yet he hardly recognized himself. He'd never seen his expression so relaxed and unguarded, and it unsettled him. Fiorenza stood up and went to stand behind him, looking down at the drawing. "Stunning...and so intimate," she murmured, reaching out to trace a finger along the lines defining his jaw. "You have remarkable talent, Rionach."

"Thank you," she replied, though she was staring intently at Lucius, gauging his reaction.

"It's…" Lucius leaned back, cleared his throat, and tried again. "I look...like me. But different."

Fiorenza rolled her eyes. "How very eloquent of you, dear."

Ignoring her, Lucius finally looked up from his drawing, meeting Rionach's patient stare. "It's the most beautiful thing I own," he said quietly, echoing her earlier words. He carefully put down his present and leaned over to her chair, his lips brushing across her cheek. Wisps of red hair tickled his face, and he hovered a moment longer, breathing her in, his eyes lowering to the smooth cleft above her mouth, the full, flushed pink of her lower lip. His eyelashes swept across her temple, and her breath halted in response, patches of scarlet blooming along her cheeks. Her eyes glittered as he pulled away, and he left his hand on the arm of her chair as he pulled back, unnoticed by the other two.

"What's wrong, Eldred?" Fiorenza asked, causing Rionach and Lucius to glance over curiously.

Eldred was staring down at his gift, a strange look in his eyes that Lucius had never seen before. His mouth was a tight line, moving slightly as he chewed at the inside of his cheek. His glasses were so low on his nose they were nearly slipping off, his eyes downcast and seeming suddenly very, very tired, darker and heavier than Lucius had ever seen.

"It's nothing," he mumbled, turning the drawing around for everyone to see. A second later, a smile cracked across his face, and he pushed his glasses further up his nose. "It's very well done, Rionach," he said, not quite looking the red-haired girl in the eye.

It was the only drawing where she'd used charcoal instead of pencil. The lines were thick and dark, smudged shadows falling across his face, his glasses darkened and slicing his eyes in half. One eye was emanating a faint glimmer, which may have seemed whimsical elsewhere, but in this particular piece, instead gave Eldred's expression a distinctly ominous feel. He was looking to the side, and the part of his mouth not obscured with shadow was firmly closed, small lines of tension around the corner of his lips.

"I don't think I've ever seen you so dark and brooding, Eldred," Fiorenza said thoughtfully, leaning into the drawing closely. "I like it," she declared, grinning at the others.

Lucius tilted his head to the side. "It's well done, but I don't think I've ever seen that expression on Eldred's face before either, Rionach," he said, sipping his coffee. "When did you do it?"

Rionach shrugged, looking at her hands. "I did that one from memory. Probably why it's not as accurate as the others."

"Oh it's still wonderful," Fiorenza assured her, smiling warmly. "Now, you three open your presents from me. I can't wait to see your faces."

As was her style, Fiorenza gave each of them an accessory of some kind; cuff-links for Lucius, earrings for Rionach, and a dragon's tooth pendant for Eldred. The dark-haired wizard had given them all books, and then Fiorenza opened the rest of her rather large pile of presents, revealing mostly jewelry, clothes, and the odd beauty product.

Just as they were starting on a third coffee, a few light rain drops spattered on cheeks and shoulders, and with a squeal Fiorenza quickly ushered everyone inside, summoning Janey so she could quickly bring the presents in from the rain. The second the door closed behind them, the sky opened wide with a crack, and fat raindrops shot down from above, hitting the windows with a loud smack.

Fiorenza let out a long sigh, blowing wisps of hair out of her face. "There goes our good weather," she muttered, staring out at the dark clouds mutinously. "I suppose we could read?"

"Anyone want to play chess?" Eldred asked brightly, seeming unfazed by the pouring rain.

"I'm game," Fiorenza replied, perking up a little when Eldred smiled at her gratefully. They wandered off to the drawing room, saying something about hot chocolate and extra blankets.

* * *

_Rionach_

She walked over to the glass doors that separated her from the verandah, peering out at the colourful landscape, dulled by the sheets of rain coming down. A flutter of movement caught her eye, and she realized with a start that Eldred's drawing was left outside.

Without thinking, she quickly wrenched open the door and ran outside in bare feet, the rain instantly soaking through her clothes. When she arrived at the table, though, she paused, looking down at her gift to Eldred. The rain had already seeped into the edges of the frame, running down the paper and ruining the portrait. She sighed, running a finger down the glass, tracing the outline of one of the charcoal drips, remembering the expression on the boy's face when he looked at it. Perhaps it was for the best.

"What a shame," Lucius said behind her. She flinched, surprised at how close he was. Her heart leapt into her throat. The wolf inside her was growling warningly, but for the first time, she ignored her, carefully locking her away. She brought her hand back to her side and turned to face him.

White-blond hair was wetly sticking to his face, a thick strand falling across his right eye. Her hand moved of its own volition, reaching up to gently sweep the hair to the side. His cheek burned beneath her cold touch, a muscle in his jaw twitching as her fingers lingered.

"You're getting all wet," she commented, a small smile playing on her lips. He looked less dignified in the rain, less godly, but still held that same aura of dark beauty, his gray eyes flicking down to her mouth, the muscles along his collarbone protruding through his soaked shirt.

Something changed in his face. His eyes lost the tinge of self-loathing and arrogance that they usually carried, and for a brief second, she saw pure longing, voracious and intense, and she knew instantly that her own eyes reflected the same, the rain peeling the last of their defenses away.

He took a step forward, determination etched into his features. She froze, terrified at how much the yearning in her chest ached. His hands reached up to cup her face, his thumbs rubbing against her jaw. She leaned into his grasp, her arms moving up his sides to hold his shoulders, her head so light she was afraid that she'd fall if she didn't cling to him. He was her rock, her centre, her everything. His skin was so, so pale, but scorching hot, and his breath, tinged with coffee, cigarettes and sweets, warmly trickled over her cheeks. _He is so close._

Time came to a halt. Her senses sharpened so that she became aware of every tiny, delicate detail. The water leaking down the sides of her face. Her shirt sticking to her stomach. The smell of damp earth and rain from the outside, vanilla and smoke wafting out from the house. She trembled, clenching her teeth to stop, nostrils flaring, eyes wide. His face was so close to hers. Their foreheads touched, and her eyes closed.

The rain hit the stones with a distinct pitter-pattering noise. Vanilla and rain and cigarettes engulfed her senses. Hot hot skin. Long wet hair brushed across her collarbone. Lips, so soft, brushed against hers, so warm, yet strong, demanding, pressing harder. Her head tilted back and her mouth opened slightly in response, one of her hands moving from his shoulder to his hair, her fingers tangling the blond locks.

The wolf within snarled from behind its bars, startling her into leaning back, breaking the kiss, her eyes opening. "We shouldn't," she whispered, but even as the words left her mouth, her eyes were travelling back down to his lips, her fingers tangling further into his hair.

"I don't care," Lucius replied fiercely, shaking his head once, twice. He kissed her forehead, her nose, her cheeks. Her eyes closed again. She was melting in the rain.

His mouth pressed against hers delicately as he murmured against her lips, "I'll keep you safe. Forever."

She knew it was a promise he couldn't keep, but it didn't matter, because there was nothing gentle about him now, his lips crushing against hers, one hand straying to her waist while the other wrapped behind her neck, pulling her so close, his heat enveloping her completely. His fingers dug harshly into her back; she was dimly aware of a snippet of a poem drifting through her mind; _To lose thee, sweeter than to gain..._

The words washed away with the rain as quickly as they appeared, and though she was sure her lips were bruised and her body would never stop shaking, she held tightly to Lucius and kissed him back roughly, the wolf howling deep within her.

* * *

_Fiorenza_

She watched her friend and the werewolf girl embrace in the rain, a frown playing at the corners of her mouth, her hand tightening on the bag of chess pieces she'd come back to collect. When the two separated and came back inside, she quickly ducked into the hall, listening to Rionach tell Lucius that she was going to change her clothes and him muttering something she couldn't hear before kissing her again, his forehead resting on hers when their lips parted.

Rionach smiled up at him, and Fiorenza's breath caught in her throat at the expression, so full of naked desire and hope. The girl stepped away from him, their fingers still entwined, until he finally let her go, standing perfectly still and watching as she padded away down the other hall.

When she was gone, Fiorenza stepped back into the room with Lucius, who jumped at her appearance, his eyes narrowing. He opened his mouth to speak, but she cut him off with a wave of her hand, and his mouth clamped closed, a defiant expression on his face.

She paused, chastising words dying on her lips as she appraised his demeanour. "I hope you know what you're doing, Lucius," she said simply.

He turned to stand squarely in front of her, straightening his shoulders. _He's so tall now_, she thought with a start, noting how his nose turned up so he could look down its length at her, eyes glinting dangerously. _He looks like Abraxas._

"I want her," Lucius replied, equally as frank.

She took a deep breath, choosing her words carefully. "I've loved you as a friend for a long time, and I know that lately things have been...difficult." Lucius opened his mouth to protest, but she quickly talked over him. "Don't try to deny it. You won't let me in, and Eldred is oblivious as ever. But over these past few days, I've grown to know Rionach as well. She's strong, and creative, and one day, this isn't going to be enough for her. She needs to move on and find her family. Will you be able to let her go, when that day comes?"

Lucius's face darkened, and he looked away, shrugging. "It was just a kiss, Fee."

"Don't treat me like I have the intelligence of a mountain troll," she snapped. "You two have been dancing around each other for months, and when you look at each other...gods, it's like time is stopping for the two of you. I keep expecting sparks to fly up whenever you touch."

Lucius's face turned impassive, and he reached up to wring water out of his hair. "Are you done?"

She looked like she'd been slapped, and she blinked a few times rapidly. "Yes. I suppose I am."

"Great. I'll go get changed then. See you in the drawing room." And with that, Lucius turned on his heel and walked briskly away from her, leaving his friend gaping at his retreating back.

* * *

**December 31st, 1969 - New Year's Eve  
****In the Streets of Pozzalo, Italy**

Rionach leaned into Lucius's side, his arm sturdily tucked around her waist, as they navigated through the busy streets. It was nearly midnight, and hundreds of people were dancing and drinking around them. Fiorenza and Eldred walked ahead, searching for an ideal spot to settle in so they could watch the fireworks and share a bottle of Muggle champagne.

Rionach had noted the cool attitude between Lucius and Fee ever since their kiss on the verandah, but her new friend said nothing to her, and so she kept quiet. Eldred had raised his eyebrows the first time Lucius kissed her in front of his friends, but if he said anything to his best friend about it, Lucius did not share it with her.

"Oi! Over here!" Eldred yelled over the noise of the crowd. He and Fiorenza claimed a long bench perched near the top of a hill, and Lucius and Rionach joined them after some pushing through the crowd, Lucius with his nose upturned, expression haughty, Rionach grinning widely and standing on her toes to give him a peck on the cheek, promptly clearing his face of any traces of discontent.

"This spot is excellent," Fiorenza said excitedly as she pulled champagne flutes out of her purse, and passed the bottle over to Eldred. "If you would do the honours, Sir?" she asked, batting her eyelashes shamelessly.

Eldred grinned, pushing his glasses onto his head and taking off his coat in order to roll up his shirt sleeves, looking very business-like. "Here goes nothing," he muttered, face screwed up in concentration, and with a loud _pop! _the cork erupted from the bottle, foam spilling over the edges and onto his hands and pants.

The other three cheered, and the people in the streets took up the cheer with gusto, someone further down the street turning up their music in response. Fiorenza laughed, handing Eldred her scarf to mop up the excess liquid.

"Every year," she grinned, shaking her head.

"He'll learn one day," Lucius agreed, and they smiled warmly at each other before remembering they were in the middle of a fight, each turning away awkwardly.

While Fiorenza and Eldred busied themselves portioning out the champagne, Rionach sighed, tucking her heels up on the bench and leaning back to look at the sky. "I don't want this night to ever end," she said dreamily.

Lucius nodded, resting his chin on her head. "It's going to be hard, back at school. Back to being...discreet."

"I know," she said softly, her hand covering his. One finger rubbed against his serpent ring. "I don't mind, though, as long as I get to see you."

"Here you are," Eldred interrupted, handing over two full glasses. "Now pay attention! The countdown is nearly on."

"It's such a funny thing to celebrate, don't you think?" Rionach mused, watching people excitedly prepare for the countdown to the new year. "I mean, what's the significance, really? It's just another year. It comes whether we celebrate it or not."

"But people love an excuse to celebrate," Fiorenza replied, shrugging. "And it's a time to re-assess, I suppose...make new goals, promises, start anew…"

Eldred nodded, and solemnly put a hand over his heart. "I promise to read something other than my Care of Magical Creatures textbooks this term."

Lucius rolled his eyes. "Sure you will, Worple."

Fiorenza put a hand over her own heart, her expression growing serious. "I promise not to be so judgemental. I think that maybe I could...get to know people, a little better, and maybe be surprised with the results," she said, almost shyly looking over at Rionach, who smiled back at her.

The red-haired girl stood, facing the other three, a hand on her heart. "I promise to be more open. With myself, and with my friends." Eldred looked down at her words, Fiorenza smiled, and Lucius nodded slightly, understanding on his face.

"What about you, Lucius?" Fiorenza asked as Rionach sat down again.

Lucius shrugged, a small smirk threatening to spread across his face. "Well, when you're already perfect…"

Fiorenza laughed out loud and reached over to smack his arm. Rionach grinned, happy that the tension between them seemed to be completely dissolved.

"Oh all right," Lucius grumbled, making a show of rubbing his arm. "I promise to always humour Fee when she tells me what to do…though I may not necessarily do exactly as she says," he said, winking at the dark-haired beauty.

"Don't I know it," Fiorenza mumbled, though her words were drowned out by the deafening shouts of people yelling out _Ten...Nine...Eight...Seven…_

Lucius stood, pulling Rionach up with him and setting their glasses down on the bench. _Six...Five...Four…_

"I promise to keep you safe," he said into her ear. Rionach looked back up at him, her eyes shining. _Three...Two...One…_

Among the exclamations of _Happy New Year! _around them, Lucius kissed Rionach tenderly, and her mouth smiled against his lips. Beside them, Fiorenza swooped up to meet Eldred's lips with hers, causing the bespectacled wizard to blush to the roots of his dark hair.

The four friends broke apart and stared up at the sky as fireworks exploded into the night, leaving glittering trails of colour across the black canvas. Lucius pulled Rionach close, smiling into her hair. He pushed aside thoughts of his father, of death, of Ophelia. He felt like he was in a dream, the happiest dream he'd ever had, and he intended to stay asleep for as long as possible.


	13. Chapter XIII

**Chapter Thirteen – Wisps Of Ash**

* * *

_He stepped down, trying not to look at her,  
__As if she were the sun,  
__Yet he saw her, like the sun,  
__Even without looking._

From **Anna Karenina** by Leo Tolstoy

* * *

**January 5th, 1970 - Waning Crescent Moon  
****The Great Hall, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft &amp; Wizardry**

_Lucius_

He automatically gathered his breakfast together, his mind elsewhere. Some plain porridge, breakfast tea with a drop of milk, two pieces of bacon. He ate quickly, skimming over his Charms notes as he chewed, squeezing in some extra review before the quiz later that morning. Fiorenza was at his side, and Eldred was strangely absent, having muttered something earlier about skipping breakfast in order to finish an Astronomy essay.

"Another round of last minute studying, Lucius?" Fiorenza remarked casually, adding another layer of primrose yellow polish to her thumbnail. A third-year girl noticed and started excitedly asking the older witch where she'd gotten a hold of the Muggle nailpolish. Fiorenza initially stiffened, wrinkling her nose, then remembered her New Year's promise and pasted a fake smile on her face before launching into an explanation of how she managed to collect her beauty products.

Though his friend was now preoccupied, Lucius grunted in response, his left hand tapping impatiently against the table. A flurry of wings and screeching from the owls forced him to look up as the post came in. His father's eagle owl swooped down to his plate gracefully, dropping a small roll of parchment with the Malfoy family seal beside his plate. Lucius reached over to toss the bird a couple of sausages before it took off, and then unrolled the letter carefully.

A white gold ring shaped into two serpents that bit each other's tails, emeralds set into their eyes, rolled out of the paper, causing Lucius to inhale sharply as he realized the implications of his father sending him that ring. His eyes warily skimmed over the short letter.

_Lucius,_

_I have written to inform you that arrangements for your betrothal to Narcissa Black have gone smoothly. As such, the betrothal will be sealed this month's full moon, on the 22nd. Please find enclosed the family ring that you are to present to Miss Black as soon as the contract has been signed._

_Uphold the family name. Purity will always conquer._

_Abraxas Tiberius Malfoy_

Lucius swore loudly, causing several heads along the Slytherin table to swivel his way. Agatha Yaxley narrowed her eyes, looking from the ring in his hand to the letter, and back to his face.

"Daddy not buy the right sparkly bauble for his precious boy, Malfoy?" she asked with a smirk, causing the girls sitting on either side of her to snicker into their porridge.

Lucius ignored her, though her taunt had caught the attention of Fiorenza, who gave him a knowing look as she realized the only occasion that Abraxas could possibly be sending his son jewelry for.

"Are you going to tell...her?" Fiorenza whispered as he shoved the ring into the bottom of his bag.

"No," he said shortly.

She crossed her arms over her chest, eyebrow raised. "She deserves to know."

Lucius sighed frustratedly, running a hand through his hair. "I'll deal with this, all right? We can't get married until we've graduated anyway, and that's years away. She doesn't need to know. Narcissa won't say anything if I tell her not to, and you won't say anything either. Promise?"

Fiorenza pursed her lips. "I've been keeping a lot of secrets for you lately, Lucius."

"I know." He fiddled with his spoon, pushing the blueberries in his porridge around his bowl. "And I'm sorry for it."

She shrugged, sliding down the bench in order to wrap an arm around his shoulders. "I'll keep your secret, but promise me something."

Lucius's eyes narrowed, the Slytherin in him suspicious, but he nodded. "What is it?"

"Promise me that when she decides to leave...you'll let her."

He hesitated, dropping his gaze back down to his breakfast. "_If _she decides to leave...I promise." He gave his friend a small half-smile, attempting to appear nonchalant. "These contracts are broken all the time anyway. Hardly anyone uses them anymore. My father's just old-fashioned." He tried to keep the lie in his words undetected; his father had mentioned in the letter that the contract would be sealed beneath a full moon, and only very powerful magic would be able to break it.

Fiorenza gave him one of her long, disapproving stares, but nodded once, apparently satisfied. He said something about going to finish his Charms review and stood to leave, meeting Narcissa's eyes from the other end of the table. Wondering how long she'd been watching him for, he gave her a small shrug and left the hall, hardly paying attention to where he was going, and as a result walked directly into his Ravenclaw nemesis, both of their books landing haphazardly around the floor.

"Watch where you're going, Crawford," Lucius snarled, rearranging his books with a flick of his wand.

The girl shot him a dark look and did the same, doing her best to look haughty and composed, though he noticed her hands trembling slightly. "_You're _the one who ran into _me, _Malfoy," she spit back.

Normally, Lucius wouldn't bother wasting breath on the girl, but he was in a particularly terrible mood, and felt like letting some anger loose. He took a step forward until they were a mere few inches apart. She flinched a little beneath his stare, the top of her head barely reaching his chin. "Your kind should be the ones making sure you stay out of _my _way. I don't need to debase myself by watching for where you might be going."

"You're a bastard, Malfoy," she sputtered, taking a step back. Her eyes widened as he threw back his head and laughed.

"I thought that a Ravenclaw would be able to come up with a more clever insult at least," he said, grinning. "But then, I can't expect much more from a Mudblood, can I?"

A short, broad-shouldered boy, also in Ravenclaw robes, came around the corner, and gathering from the angry look on his face, he'd heard their exchange. "Don't call her that, Malfoy," he said firmly, moving to stand between the girl and Lucius. "She has a name. Tracy Crawford. Scum like you would do well to remember that."

Lucius rolled his eyes, then paused a moment, giving the other boy a quick appraisal. "I see your little boyfriend is equally as clever. Jones, isn't it? Doesn't your father work for the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes?"

He gave the boy a toothy smile, which grew wider when the other visibly stiffened. "How do you know anything about my family?" Jones demanded.

Lucius shrugged elegantly, moving to lounge against the stone wall. "The head of the department, Pales Parkinson, is a close friend of my father's. In fact, I believe he was at my birthday celebration over the holidays," he added casually, his eyes cold, the smile never leaving his face.

Jones swallowed visibly, his face turning red. "Are you threatening my father, Malfoy?"

"Sweet Salazar, of course not," Lucius said smoothly. "I'm simply making you aware of the finer points of the rather delicate situation you've decided to insert yourself into."

A myriad of emotions flitted across the other boy's face, and he finally stepped back, grasping the hand of the girl he'd come to rescue. "Come on, Tracy. No point in wasting our time with this git."

"It's been a pleasure!" Lucius called to their retreating backs. Feeling rather pleased with himself, he checked his pocket watch, frowning when he realized he wouldn't have much time to get in that extra Charms review. He quickly hurried through the castle, arriving at the classroom just in time.

"What took you so long?" Eldred whispered as his friend slid into the desk next to his.

"Ran into Crawford," he said shortly, arranging his parchment and quills.

Eldred sighed, running a hand through his hair. "You shouldn't let her get under your skin."

"She didn't," he answered, an annoyed frown forming on his lips. "It doesn't matter anyway. I have a free period after this, so I think I'll go study in the Room of Requirement."

At that Eldred raised an eyebrow, a disbelieving look on his face. "You're simply going to _study_, are you?"

"Yes," he replied simply, not bothering to address the other boy's tone. "Then tonight you're going to teach me that Disillusionment charm like we planned, right? Should make things a little more...simple," he finished. Eldred nodded as Professor Flitwick passed him the quiz, the students descending into silence.

When the class was over, Lucius waved at Fiorenza and Eldred, who were heading to Care of Magical Creatures together, and walked towards the Room of Requirement, a lightness in his step. Before opening the door, he rummaged in his bag for the croissant he'd saved for Rionach from breakfast, and his fingers closed around the ring, the gold cool beneath his fingertips.

He brought it out of his bag and let it rest in his palm, the other hand nervously tapping against his leg. Shaking his head, he tucked the ring back into his bag and pulled out the croissant before stepping into the Room.

As soon as he stepped inside, a blur of tiny limbs accompanied by a mane of red hair jumped into his arms, and he promptly dropped both bag and croissant onto the floor. Rionach leaned back in his grasp, grinning ear to ear and shaking her hair out down her back.

"I've wanted to do that for months," she said, leaning forward and kissing his nose. Lucius blinked in surprise, taking in the girl in his arms. She looked so much more alive, more _vivid_ than she had four months ago. Her hair seemed to be a deeper crimson, her eyes a brighter blue, the small brown freckles on her nose contrasting starkly on her pale skin. So different from the frail, bruised girl with the matted hair who'd trembled within her cage when his father-

"Is something wrong?" she asked uncertainly, interrupting his thoughts, her arms loosening around his neck.

Lucius mentally shook himself, bringing his focus back to the present. "Everything is perfect," he said firmly, punctuating his words with a hard kiss on her mouth. "Well, almost everything. Your breakfast is on the floor."

Rionach laughed lightly, a mischievous smirk spreading over her face. "I suppose I'll just have to eat you then, won't I? My wolf is hungry today." She leaned forward, opening her mouth against his neck. Lucius stiffened as her teeth gently grazed along his skin, closing his eyes at the feel of her damp breath. Her face moved back up to his, and she carefully kissed his eyelids, her hands moving to either side of his face.

"Then again, I've eaten worse than a croissant that's been on the floor for a moment," she added, pulling away.

Lucius laughed out loud, loosening his arms and letting the girl gracefully slip back down to the floor. He bent one knee, scooping up the lone pastry, and offered it up to Rionach, his head bowed in mock obeisance. "For you, my Queen."

"Lovely," she said primly as she plucked the croissant from his hand. She munched away at her breakfast as Lucius told her about his Charms quiz, demonstrating the colouring charm for her amusement. He learned quickly that Rionach loved watching him do magic, no matter how small the spell, and had fallen into the habit of using magic for even the simplest of tasks just to see the look of pure wonder that would alight in her eyes.

"_Colovaria hyacintho,_" he muttered towards a bunch of white lilies that were perched on a side table. Blue spots appeared on the petals, then spread along the veins of the flowers until they were a deep ultramarine colour. Rionach's lips parted in awe as she leaned forward to gently stroke the delicate petals.

"That was wonderful," she said dreamily before stepping back and carefully folding herself onto the couch. She propped a pillow on her lap and rested her chin on top, tilting her head to the side. Lucius smirked as he sat down next to her, folding one leg up on the cushion.

"Something funny?" Rionach asked, finishing off her croissant.

"It's nothing," he said quickly, busying himself with pulling out his Charms text.

"You're laughing at me."

"I'm not."

"You are!"

"It's just…" he trailed off, giving her an apprehensive look. "You look so much like a dog, right now. Curled up with your head tilted like that...I thought it was funny, because, you know…"

Rionach stared back blankly for a moment, then fell into a fit of giggles. "That is a bit funny."

Lucius sighed in relief, leaning back on the couch. Rionach put the pillow down and crawled over him, settling her cheek on his chest. He could feel her heart beating quickly. He wanted her to stay there forever, to satiate the craving he always had now for her closeness, her touch.

"Eldred's coming by later to teach me a Disillusionment charm...remember, that one he used to keep you hidden on the train? Should make sneaking around a bit easier," he added with a wry grin.

Rionach lifted her head slightly and wrinkled her nose. "Do you have to practise here?"

Lucius frowned. "I suppose not. It's just a convenient space is all. Why?"

"Oh, no reason," she muttered, dropping her head back down to his chest. "When is your next class?"

Lucius glanced at his pocket watch, sighing. "Half an hour. Ancient Runes."

Rionach crept further up his chest, resting her elbows on his shoulders so her hands were free to run through his hair. He tilted his head back and closed his eyes. He couldn't remember the last time someone had touched his hair like that, if ever.

"Does that feel good?" she whispered.

Lucius nodded. "Mmhmm." He reached up his arms to catch both her hands in his, and leaned forward so their noses were barely touching. "I feel at peace when I'm next to you."

"You scare me," she said quietly, her eyes flicking up to his. At his frown, she shook her head slightly. "Not like that. This...whatever this is between us. It scares me. It can't last. I'm afraid we'll burn up into ash and drift away in the wind, too scattered to find our way back to each other."

"We won't," he said firmly, closing the small distance between their mouths. He kissed her for a long moment, holding her bottom lip in his teeth, savouring the smell of her skin.

"How can you be so sure?"

Her words sparked doubt in his stomach, but he simply wiped them away, as he would at dust settling on a surface. "I'm a Malfoy. We always get what we want." He grinned down at her wolfishly. "And I want you."

Rionach leaned back and placed her face on his chest again, so he couldn't see her eyes. "I envy you, sometimes."

Lucius stiffened beneath her, the hand hanging over the edge of the couch closing into a fist. "You shouldn't."

"You're so sure in yourself, in your beliefs, in your family," she went on, as if he hadn't spoken. "So many opportunities."

His fist clenched and loosened at his side as he considered contradicting her, but stopped himself. For all the hardships that he may have gone through, he had never experienced captivity as she had. For how trapped he currently felt, he still followed willingly, still believed in blood purity and what Voldemort hoped to accomplish, even with his extreme ways. He unfurled his hand and reached up to brush her hair from her forehead, and her chin tilted up, resting on his chest, eyes peering up from heavy lids.

"Let's not talk about the future," he said, forcing his voice to remain steady. Her nostrils flared every so slightly and her eyes seemed to narrow, but she remained quiet, her eyes closing as he continued to run his fingers through her hair.

"Mmmm. Let's not talk at all," Rionach replied mischievously, moving to straddle Lucius with her thighs, curtains of hair falling around her face as she leaned forward. Her warm breath skipped over his collarbone, the muscles in his neck, the lines of his jaw. He felt his neck flush, and she curiously traced the path of red blotches with her fingertips, awed by the effect she had on his body. His hands moved up her back, under her loose cotton shirt, nails pressing into her shoulder blades as she placed hot kisses under his chin.

"Rionach," he said hoarsely, withdrawing his hands in order to cup her face and gently push it away from his. "I should get to class."

She nodded, biting her lip, her eyes betraying the longing she felt. "Yes, you should."

Later, when Lucius was sitting in the back of his Ancient Runes class, chin propped up on his fist and his eyes unfocused, completely ignoring his professor's lecture, he would reflect on her words, ignoring the chill creeping up his spine.

_I'm afraid we'll burn up into ash and drift away in the wind, too scattered to find our way back to each other..._

* * *

**January 10th, 1970 - Waxing Crescent Moon  
****The Library, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft &amp; Wizardry**

Fiorenza rolled her eyes as another giggle erupted from the couple sitting across from her and Eldred, the noise distracting her from a heavy stack of Transfiguration homework. "Would you two cut it out or go somewhere else?"

"Seriously," Eldred muttered, shooting Rionach and Lucius a dark look from his seat.

Lucius shrugged as Rionach flushed beside him. "You're not tied to your chairs, are you?"

Fiorenza looked like she was about to snap back a retort, but a loud clatter from the other side of the room distracted the foursome. A burly boy with brown hair and massive hands quickly bent over the pile of books he'd tipped over, his face whitening when he looked up and saw Fiorenza staring at him critically.

"Isn't that the boy who knocked Lucius off his broom before the holidays?" Rionach asked curiously, noting how when he was done the boy skirted around the room, keeping as much distance between himself and their table as possible.

"It is," Fiorenza replied with a smirk, carefully dipping her quill in her ink pot and resuming her work once the boy was out of the library.

"He looked rather nervous to see you," Lucius commented, eyebrow raised.

"Yes, well, I am quite fearsome looking, as you all well know," Fiorenza answered, winking at them with a devilish smile on her face.

"Fee...did you...do something to that boy?" Rionach asked nervously, peering down at her hands.

The witch's violet eyes snapped up to meet hers, her mouth hardening into a thin line. "And what if I did? No one messes with my friends. Everyone knows that."

Taken aback by the venom in her voice, Rionach quietened and went back to watching Lucius write his paper. He smiled reassuringly and placed his hand over hers beneath the table.

"Hello, Lucius," a soft, feminine voice said from behind the pair. Lucius's head whipped around as Narcissa Black moved to stand at the head of their table. He dropped his hand from Rionach's instantly. The blond girl's eyes flicked towards Rionach, taking her in with a quick glance, the slight wrinkle of her nose demonstrating her opinion. "Who's this?"

"That's Susi," Fiorenza said smoothly as Lucius seemed to be struggling to keep a straight face. "Exchange student from Estonia."

"Really?" Narcissa asked, cocking her head to the side. "I wasn't aware that Hogwarts had such a program."

"Yes, well, it's new this year," the dark haired girl replied quickly, and changed the subject. "How is your mother, Narcissa?"

"Oh, she's fine," the other witch answered dismissively. Her eyes never left Rionach's face. The werewolf had dropped her gaze to the table, busying her hands with doodling shapes on Lucius's parchment. "Are you all coming to Hogsmeade next weekend?"

"Of course we are," Eldred said excitedly, straightening in his chair. Narcissa shifted her stare to him, giving the boy her undivided attention, and he blushed beneath her gaze.

Fiorenza frowned, giving Eldred a strange look as she spoke. "You're going as well then, Narcissa?"

"I am," the youngest Black daughter replied, smoothing out her black skirt. "In fact, that's why I came over here. Eldred," she commanded, her soft, delicate voice suddenly turning to a whip-like crack. "Would you like to go to Hogsmeade with me?"

"Narcissa, do you really think-" Lucius began, giving her a warning look, but Eldred talked over him, drawing the attention of several other nearby students with his shrill tone.

"YesIwouldliketogotoHogsmeadewithyou," he said in an excited rush. Narcissa beamed and wandered over to his chair, leaning over to give him a quick peck on the cheek. As she straightened, her eyes met Fiorenza's briefly, and a dark smile spread across her lips.

"Lovely. Meet you in the common room at one, yes?" Without waiting for an answer, she turned and swept out of the library without a backwards glance.

The table was silent for a moment, broken by a loud _thump! _as Fiorenza slammed her textbook shut. Eldred jumped at the noise and turned towards her in surprise. "What-"

"You two should be less obvious," Fiorenza snapped towards Rionach and Lucius, though her eyes settled on the blond wizard, who guiltily avoided her gaze. "That insufferable girl suspects something, I know it! No more library visits. Stick to empty corridors and the grounds." The pair, shocked at her outburst, nodded numbly. Her tone left little room for argument.

"And _you,_" she added, turning on Eldred, knuckles white. "You are a speck of dirt on the toe of Narcissa Black's shoe. She didn't even bother to remember your name until now. But the second she bats her eyelashes your way you go slobbering after her, even after we…" she trailed off as she stood, shoving books in her bag. "Whatever. I'll see you at dinner," she finished bitterly, angry tears in her eyes as she practically sprinted for the door.

Eldred looked back and forth between Rionach, who had a tight frown on her face, and Lucius, who didn't appear to be paying attention to anything. "Did I do something wrong?"

Rionach sighed, rolling her eyes towards the ceiling as she muttered, "I have no idea what she sees in him," and quickly left the room as well, following Fiorenza.

* * *

_Rionach_

She found Fiorenza outside on the edge of the lake, shivering in her thin sweater as shining eyes stared out at the glassy water. The sun had just dipped below the horizon, purple light dancing across the glittering surface. When she wrapped a shawl around Fiorenza's shoulders, she turned to her, pure white snowflakes clinging to her long lashes. She looked like she wanted to say something important, but all that came out was, "Thank you."

Rionach nodded wordlessly. They spent some time staring out at the lake, snow whipping around their ears and cheeks. Finally, Fiorenza turned to her, asking, "Do you love Lucius?"

She paused, unsure how to answer. He was everything to her, her light, her rock, her universe. But she also wondered if after all this time she was capable of love. Could this fierce, aching longing be love? Or simply a strange infatuation with the boy whose father bought her in the arena? "I don't know."

Fiorenza kept her eyes ahead of them, shoving one hand deep into her pocket, the other gripping the shawl around her shoulders. "No, I suppose you wouldn't." Rionach said nothing, so she continued. "I've loved Eldred for two years now. Maybe longer, since we first met, I just didn't know it yet. He was so cute, following Lucius everywhere, nose in a book about Minotaurs or Pixies, glasses always dirty. He's smart, too. Not the way Lucius is smart, but he is. He has a way with words...not speaking, but on paper, he's genius."

When she stopped, Rionach pondered her words. She's had such strange feelings about Eldred these past months, so it was difficult to see him the way Fee did. But her wolf didn't like it when she kissed Lucius, either, so she started to wonder if she should be putting all of her faith in the beast so blindly. The wolf could be wrong. Perhaps Eldred was simply as he seemed; a poor boy who was terrible at seeing what was right in front of him.

"He wrote a poem for Narcissa last year," Fiorenza said abruptly, bringing a hand out of her pocket and flicking a folded piece of parchment towards Rionach. "Lucius convinced him not to give it to her, so I kept it. I think it's wonderful. I just wish…" she sighed, the sound carrying on the wind. "I just wish the words were about me."

Rionach held the parchment carefully, unfolding it and squinting her eyes against the light of the dying sun. Fiorenza lit her wand and brought it close to the page, Rionach smiling gratefully in response. She read it slowly; the poem was truly lovely. Not pretentious or assuming, simply honest, raw and beautiful.

"Fee...why don't you just tell Eldred how you feel?" she asked, watching the other girl's face carefully.

Fiorenza shrugged. "Before, it was because I was scared, but also because I wanted him to come to me. Now, though...I don't know. I guess I thought things might be different after New Year's, but I suppose the kiss meant little to him if he's going on dates with Narcissa."

"Eldred can be a little...thick, I think," Rionach replied, rubbing her hands together to ward off the cold. "You might have to spell it out for him."

Fiorenza snorted, causing wisps of warm air to escape her nose into the frigid air. "I am a Zabini, Rionach. I have my pride. And I think I've made my intentions quite clear, earning nothing in return. No. This is the end, I think. I can't keep doing this." With that, she snatched the poem back and ripped it into tiny pieces, flinging them out into the night. The bits of parchment swirled in little circles as tiny cyclones of snow captured them, dancing away over the surface of the lake.

As the two girls turned to walk back to the castle, Fiorenza caught Rionach's arm, causing her to look back quizzically. Her face was determined, eyes wide, cheeks flushed with the cold, but her voice trembled when she spoke. "It's good you're not in love with him."

Rionach's eyes narrowed, and she flinched away from her grasp. "What do you mean?"

"You don't belong in this world, Rionach. You know that. This will all come to an end soon, and you've had enough to deal with in your short life - you don't need a broken heart as well." When Fiorenza finished speaking she was breathing heavily, and the knuckles of the hand gripping her shawl were bone white. Rionach could see the same fierceness in her eyes that was reflected when she'd spoken of the boy who'd knocked Lucius off of his broom. _His face was so white._ A cold hand snaked around her heart; she wondered, not for the first time, what secrets these new friends of hers held.

She took a deep breath, quelling her anger. "I understand. Thank you, Fee," she said as firmly as she could, grasping both of Fiorenza's hands in hers. The witch gave her a weak smile in return, and together they turned back to the castle, dark silhouettes against the orange glow of the lanterns above.

As she walked, she wondered - _if I don't belong in this world, and my old home is never found, then where _do_ I belong?_


	14. Chapter XIV

**Chapter Fourteen – New Foes**

* * *

_Stab the body and it heals,  
__But injure the heart and the wound lasts a lifetime._

\- Mineko Iwasaki

* * *

**January 17th, 1970 - Waxing Gibbous Moon  
****The Three Broomsticks, Hogsmeade Village**

_Rionach_

Excitement was making her fingernail clink restlessly against the side of her glass. Other than their little trip to Italy, she had spent little time outside of a cell or the castle, the latter feeling a lot like another version of a cage as of late. Their time at Fiorenza's winter home felt so dreamlike; she was swept up in a swirl of glittering sapphires and sparkling fireworks, hazy mornings filled with coffee and sweets, afternoons kissing in the rain.

Now, here, in a crowded pub filled with students, travelers, and workers taking well-deserved breaks, she felt so alive. She tried to focus on the words Lucius was whispering in her ear, but was too busy watching a young girl blush as she was kissed for the first time, an old man leaning back and watching the foam on his beer swirl around his glass, a sweaty bartender hastily catching a plate that nearly fell off the bar.

"You know, I've never been on a date with a Quidditch _captain _before," Fiorenza was saying in an uncharacteristically high-pitched voice, her tone snapping Rionach out of her reverie. Beside her, Lucius took a long sip of his Butterbeer, squeezing her knee under the table.

The dark-haired beauty was perched on the lap of Silas Flint, a rather brutish-looking boy who towered over everyone in the pub. He leaned back in his chair, a cocky grin on his face, the wood of the seat groaning beneath their combined bulk. Fiorenza ran a hand over his broad chest and practically purred in approval.

Across the room, Eldred and Narcissa were seemingly enraptured with what the other was saying, completely oblivious to the spectacle that was clearly meant for them.

"Let's go for a walk, love," Silas said, flicking Fiorenza under her chin.

A look of annoyance passed over her face as she replied, "I'd rather stay here, actually." Her eyes momentarily slid over towards Eldred, though the movement was so quick that Rionach doubted her date noticed anything.

The boy seemed unfazed, signalling towards the waitress. "Another drink, then?"

Fiorenza's smile was back in place when she answered. "Yes, thank you."

Silas's fingers drummed on the table impatiently after he ordered. His gaze turned towards Lucius. "So Malfoy, I heard you put that Crawford girl in her place last week. Nicely done."

Rionach wasn't sure if she imagined it, but the glance Lucius flicked towards her seemed slightly apprehensive as he answered. "Who told you about that?"

Silas grinned, gripping Fee tighter around the waist as he lounged further into his chair. "That boyfriend of hers was whining about it all through Care of Magical Creatures. She blubbered a bit. It was funny."

Lucius shrugged elegantly, silky strands of hair falling over his shoulder. "We exchanged a few words in the hall after she walked straight into me." He sniffed snobbishly, bringing his cigarettes out of his pocket and offering one to Rionach. She took it, focusing on the little flame of his lighter and inhaling slowly.

Fiorenza tittered, plucking the cigarette out of Lucius's long fingers and popping it in her own mouth, breathing in sharply and exhaling through her nose. Silas watched her in fascination. Rionach was reminded of a cat stalking its prey; though in truth, she was unsure as to which one of them was the cat.

"That cow and Lucius have a long-standing rivalry," Fiorenza said in a bored tone as she handed Lucius back his cigarette. "Honestly, I don't think the Mudblood is worth the insults he throws her way."

Rionach opened her mouth to ask if they were talking about the same girl she saw sitting alone near the lake back in September, but Lucius tightened his hand on her knee, reminding her that she was not supposed to talk when others were around. Susi from Estonia has terrible English, and she was a terrible actress. She quickly took another drag of her cigarette to cover up her near-blunder.

"Well I think it was funny," Silas said loudly, reaching over to clink glasses with Lucius, who stared back coolly, but raised his glass in unison.

The burly boy leaned forward conspiratorially. "Not like any of it will matter soon. My father says that your father and the Dark Lord are going to see to it that wizard society is purified once and for all in the next few years. Won't have to worry about her sort getting under your skin any longer."

Rionach glanced from one boy to the other. An uncomfortable feeling settled in the pit of her stomach. She looked from Lucius's pinched face to Fee's bored one, to Silas's rather hungry expression. Eldred, Fee and Lucius told had explained a little of what their families considered blood purity, but what Silas spoke of seems tinged with violence. Lucius's hand snapped up to hers, holding her fingers in place so she would stop tapping on the glass.

"Well, my family's staying out of the whole thing," Fiorenza explained. She shifted delicately, loosening the fur shawl around her shoulders. "My mother says that only dogs and uncivilized men fight. We Zabinis are of a more _evolved _class."

Rionach stared at the girl who seemed so warm and inviting during the holiday, and suddenly had no idea who the real Fiorenza was. Could it be this icy creature sitting across from her, or the sad woman standing in the snow, ripping a poem with tears in her eyes?

"Yes Fee, we all know the Zabinis like to keep their hands clean, though they always manage to come out on the winning side, and with a fair amount more gold than before," Lucius commented, tilting his head towards his friend. She kept her bored look in place, though the corner of her mouth twitched faintly.

"Soon, everything will be as it should be," Silas said. "All the Mudbloods in their place. I hear the Dark Lord is recruiting vampires and werewolves at the moment. Filthy creatures, of course, but useful. When going to war, why send out your valuable soldiers, when you can just send the dogs instead?"

Both Fee and Lucius looked at Rionach sharply, whose face had gone white. Silas laughed, reaching forward and flicking her chin as he had Fiorenza's. The skin on his finger was dry and scratchy. "What's the matter, love? Don't like werewolves? Understandable, that." He looked from her to Lucius. She stubbed out her cigarette, keeping her eyes on the ashtray. "Say, you don't talk much, do you? Lucius keeps you on a tight leash," he said, grinning wide at his own joke.

A hot flush spread up Rionach's neck, and it took every ounce of control not to spit at the boy across from her. She waited a moment, thinking Lucius might step in to contradict the larger boy, but he stayed silent, simply swirling the foam at the bottom of his glass. She stood abruptly, gesturing towards the lavatory. As she stepped back, she felt Lucius's fingertips brush against her elbow, as rough as Silas's. She flinched away and brusquely walked towards the back of the pub, keeping her head down, her half-formed name on Lucius's lips.

* * *

Once in the grimy loo of the Three Broomsticks, she splashed cold water on her face and adjusted the comb in her hair. She looked pale, so she pinched her cheeks, trying to bring a flush to the ice-white surface. She traced a finger along where she knew the scar still lay, beneath the glamour that Fiorenza still diligently applied every morning.

_Lucius keeps you on a tight leash_, he'd said. She stared at her dry, wide eyes in the mirror. Why hadn't Lucius said something? Was she not worth defending? Was he just as amused by the remark?

She turned to leave, but as she opened the bathroom door, a powerful scent nearly forced her to take a step back. The moment she breathed it in, she could feel the wolf inside her unfurling, stretching out languidly in pleasure. It was earthy and spicy and incredibly wild, but somehow impure. Something pungent lurked just beneath the surface, and she paused for a moment, her eyes sweeping over the tables.

There were few not in Hogwarts uniforms; she imagined that regular patrons tended to avoid their favourite establishment while it was being flooded with students. As such, a man in a dark alcove with a scruffy beard, long hair and a chilling smile stood out sharply, despite his shadowy seat. The dim light glinted on his teeth, making the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end.

She considered avoiding him altogether, but she was too curious, could feel her wolf begging to get closer. She walked towards him, the scent thickening with each step she took in his direction. He watched her, but without lifting his gaze; he stared at his drink, yet she felt as if he already knew every inch of her. She slid into the seat opposite him and waited, placing both of her hands on the table in front of her.

This close, she noticed more strange details about him. He seemed much larger, for one; larger than any man she'd ever seen; broad-shouldered, with thickly muscled forearms. His nails were long and yellowed, tapping the wooden table. His hands, neck and cheeks were covered in small white scars, and his long hair was matted and straggly around his shoulders.

"I've been waiting for you."

He murmured the words so quietly, she wasn't even sure he's said them out loud, yet she heard them clearly, the phrase echoing in her mind.

She cleared her throat nervously and tried to speak, but no words came out. He wordlessly pushed his glass towards her, so she took a deep gulp of the amber liquid, licking the froth off her lips when she placed the glass back on the table. Her finger traced the rings of water left by the chilled glass on the wood. "How is that possible?"

He leaned forward and carefully folded his hands on the table, then looked up, so she could finally see his eyes. They were so dark, nearly black, but with small gold flecks shimmering in the irises. Her hand stilled on the table as realization dawned on her. "You're a werewolf, too."

He nodded, then tilted his head to the side, his eyes raking over her. "At the full moon, I could sense a wolf nearby. I'm sure you could, as well."

The memory caused her to stiffen. "It made the transformations...difficult," she muttered, looking away. "My wolf desperately wanted to find you."

"Your wolf?" he asked, frowning. "Your wolf is you. She is not separate." He paused, taking another gulp of beer. This close to him, she could smell beneath the layer of delicious earth and trees...something dark, and primal. Her nostrils flared; the smell was not pleasant. "What's your name, Sister?"

She licked her lips nervously as she considered giving a false answer. But she wasn't sure that she could lie convincingly to this strange wolf man. "Rionach."

He inclined his head. "My name is Fenrir." She nodded in return. "You've been in that castle for a long time, Sister. You must be missing the forest, the trees, the earth. What's keeping you locked up?"

Her eyes involuntarily flicked towards where Lucius was still sitting, on the other side of the pub. The man across from her raised his eyebrows. "Or should I say, who?"

"I'm not locked up," she snarled, shrinking back into her chair. "He-I- _we _have decided that this is the best place for me. I have nowhere else to go."

He narrowed his eyes, and before she knew what was happening, his hand gripped her chin and forced her face upwards, towards the light. She flinched away and lunged forward, snapping her teeth at his fingers. "Don't touch me," she whispered furiously, trying not to draw too much attention to their corner.

The man snorted, settling back into his chair. "I can see your scars, Sister. Their magic doesn't fool me. Another wolf didn't do that." He gestured to the people around them with his glass. "_They _did."

She shook her head vehemently. "No. The people who hurt me are far away from here. It's safer if I stay at Hogwarts."

He shrugged, the small gesture somehow both quick and violent. He held her gaze as he replied. "They're all the same. You might think that you have friends now, but what about when you try to leave?"

She shrank away from his words, memories of Pettigrew dancing behind her eyes. "No. This...this isn't captivity. Not like before, when I was first captured. I was forced to fight other wolves in an arena, for wizards' entertainment." She resisted the urge to shudder, and her hand moved to her hair, her fingers stroking the gold comb entwined in the locks. Its presence was strangely reassuring. "Here I have friends, and...him. I'm not exactly supposed to be here, so I have to spend a lot of time in my room, but I do get to go out on weekends, and sometimes in the evenings…" Even as the words left her mouth, she realized how hollow they sounded. Who exactly was she trying to convince?

It was evidently not working on Fenrir. He snorted loudly, giving her a disapproving glare. "Evenings and weekends, hmm? I don't doubt you've experienced some horrors, Sister - that scar is evidence enough of that - but it sounds to me like you've swapped one cage for another one; this one is just a little more padded, and your new handlers are better at hiding their intentions."

She opened her mouth to respond, but the protest faded on her lips. What she currently had felt more like freedom than anything she'd experienced since she'd woken up in Pettigrew's care, but she also knew that she wanted more than _this_. The werewolf took her silence as a sign to continue. "And this bloke of yours, he's holding onto you, yes? As long as you keep those ugly little reminders of your past hidden?" he asked, running a finger down his own face in a reflection of where her scar was placed.

She said nothing. He'd voiced one of her deepest, darkest fears, a thought that she hadn't dared touch for fear of the answer. She remembered the revulsion and distaste that was written all over Lucius's face when he first saw her, along with an acute fear of what she was capable of. When she would sneer and the scar would twist the corner of her mouth up in an ugly grimace, all of her new friends would wince at the sight. Now, would they do the same? The uncertainty scared her.

During her silence, a waiter came by and dropped off Fenrir's meal. Pushing the potatoes to the side, he started slicing through the thick steak, reddish juice oozing out onto the plate. "You're not sure, are you? That's because at the end of the day, all wizards think of us as dogs, even the ones who pretend to care. We can't get jobs, we can't have families, and we definitely can't survive unless we stick together."

She processed this information quietly. This stranger had no reason to lie to her, and her wolf felt an instant kinship with him, but at the same time she was wary of the myriad of scars on his hands and face, the wildness in his eyes, the hilt of the long dagger that she could see poking out of his boot. There was a strange darkness about him, thick and pungent, clinging to him like the smell of decay on an old corpse. She leaned further back in her seat and breathed through my mouth.

She did know, however, that he was right about magic folks' attitudes towards werewolves. She thought of her time in the arena, and the cruel words thrown at her from Pettigrew, Abraxas, even Lucius when he first spoke to her...the instant revulsion in his eyes and his reluctance to even touch her in those first few weeks. "How do _you_ survive, then?"

Fenrir shrugged, wiping at a thin line of red juice seeping from the corner of his mouth. "I get by. Stick to my kind, forage in the woods, recruit new wolves to my cause."

"Your cause?" she asked curiously, leaning in despite her revulsion at his sloppy chewing.

He stopped eating and stared at her seriously. "Yes. I'm hoping that one day, werewolves will outnumber witches, wizards and Muggles alike, and a rebellion will take place. No more hiding in the shadows, no more being looked down on…." He trailed off, his hand rising back up towards her face. This time she stayed still, letting him trace the line of the deep scar that ran from temple to chin. "No more wolf fights for their amusement."

She couldn't help a shiver that ran down her shoulders, causing a sinister smile to creep across the werewolf's features. "That sounds so...violent," she muttered, suddenly wanting to leave, the feeling of kinship evaporated. The smile scared her more than his words. She moved to go, but he grabbed her hand, pinning it to the table. She silently struggled against his grasp, but he was shockingly strong compared to her, and she barely moved.

"Violence must be fought with violence, pretty Sister, and the sooner you accept that, the sooner you will be able to see what needs to be done." He speared the rest of his steak with the knife and tore a piece off with his teeth. When he grinned, the steak's juices dribbled down his chin. "You don't belong in the pretty castle, and you know it. When you're ready to leave the humans and join our cause, meet me in the clearing surrounded by thistles in the middle of the Forbidden Forest. My scent will lead you there."

Finally, he released her hand, and she brought it to her chest, rubbing her wrist tenderly. "You're a dog," she spat, standing to leave.

He laughed, spittle spraying from his mouth. "You're right. I know what I am, Sister. I've embraced my true nature, and I align myself with those that would allow me to live as I do. Can you say the same?"

His words hit her hard. She stood there dumbly, searching for a retort but having none. A hand roughly grabbing at her shoulder startled me, causing her to nearly snarl at its owner in surprise. She'd been grabbed at and held onto too much today. But then she saw Lucius standing slightly behind her, a strange look of concern mixed with something hard on his face.

"Can you say the same for what?" he asked tightly, looking from Rionach to the massive man across the table.

"It's not important," she said quickly, taking a step back from the table.

Fenrir gave Lucius a careful appraisal, the disturbing grin still hovering over his features. "Oh, this is too good," he murmured, rising from his chair as well. He turned from Lucius to Rionach and bent into a slight bow, though it felt more like a mockery than a sign of respect. "Until next time," he said, then strode towards the front of the pub. She blinked, and he was gone.

"Who was that?" Lucius asked sharply.

"I'll tell you," she said carefully, reaching to cup his cheek in her hand. He stayed still, though his eyes were cold. "But first, can we go somewhere more private?"

He nodded curtly. "Fee and Silas left. I know a place we can go."

As they moved towards the exit, Lucius's arm snaked around her waist, holding her firmly against him. The familiar warmth flooded her body at his touch. She leaned in happily, though the gesture was now tainted with Fenrir's words echoing in the back of her mind, taunting her insecurities. She was grateful when the door opened and crisp, freezing air stung her cheeks, chasing away dark thoughts.

* * *

_Lucius_

_Who in Salazar's name was she talking to? _he thought to himself as he walked Rionach to the Shrieking Shack, mentally going over the strange man's appearance. He was massive and unkempt, yet the way he moved across the room was tinged with a gracefulness he wouldn't have thought possible in such a large person.

When Fiorenza and Silas had left to go find sweets, he'd looked around the pub, suddenly realizing that Rionach had been gone for a while. He'd quickly scanned the room, easily picking out the mane of red hair not quite hidden in a shadowy corner of the pub. At first, he'd half-stood in order to go over and join her, but the sight of her companion stopped him in his tracks.

To the naked eye, there was nothing similar about the two, draped in shadows in a dingy pub; the slight girl with a gold comb in her hair sitting across from the rugged man, clothed in dragonhide, running a dirty thumbnail along his bearded chin. And yet, they were so alike; the same strange elegance with which they made even the slightest movements, a flick of the wrist here, a shoulder roll there. The same wildness clung to them - the wildness that, he thought, has drawn him to Rionach ever since that first day his father bet on her in the arena.

Their feet crunched loudly in the snow as they came up to the Shrieking Shack. It was only around five o'clock, but the sky was already violet, winter night descending quickly.

"Sit. Here," Lucius muttered stiffly, gesturing to a snow-covered bench. Rionach grimaced, brushing away the snow before sitting down. Lucius momentarily forgot his anger and quickly got out his wand to clear away the snow and add a temporary warming spell to the bench.

Sitting down, Rionach blew on her fingertips, rubbing warmth into the red skin. Lucius leaned forward to take her hands in his, but she avoided his grasp and tucked her hands under her armpits, looking away towards the Shack. He frowned a little but stayed quiet, shoving his own hands in his coat pockets.

"Lucius, what's going to happen to me when I go back into the world?" Rionach asked suddenly, turning her head sharply to face him directly.

He met her gaze full on, unflinchingly. "What does that have to do with the man I saw you sitting with?"

"Everything."

Lucius's mouth tightened. His breath made white tendrils in the air as he exhaled slowly. "Does he have a name?"

Her eyes shifted to the side. "Maybe."

"What kind of answer is that?"

"I can't tell you his name."

"Can't? Why not?"

"He's a werewolf."

Lucius stood abruptly, then whirled towards Rionach, his hands gripping her shoulders tightly. His words were dangerously quiet. "You were associating in public with a _werewolf_?"

Rionach easily slid out of his grasp, knocking him backwards in the process. "Just like you do every day!"

Lucius waved his hand dismissively. "That's different."

Her eyes widened in disbelief. "How is that different? Is it because I'm prettier than him? Because I have better table manners?" She took a step forward and brought a hand to her own face, pointing to where the scar hid. "Is it because I have a better disguise, no reminders of my upsetting past for you to dwell on?"

"_No,_" Lucius retorted. "You're different because I say you are. He's a wild animal. But you...you're so much more human, Rionach."

She closed her eyes, thinking of the cruel look in Fenrir's stare that had sent a shiver down her spine. "I know. But Lucius...not every werewolf has the time to prove their humanity to you. If I looked as I do now, and you didn't know me, but you knew what I was… Would you judge me as harshly as you do him?"

Lucius let out a frustrated sigh. "I don't see how this matters. I want you, as you are, with me, now. I don't care that you're a werewolf."

Rionach shook her head sadly. "That isn't enough."

"WHY NOT?" he bellowed angrily, kicking at the snow. "I want to fall asleep next to you and see you wake up every single morning. I want to be there to take care of you every time you're hurt. I want to fill an entire house with lavender just so I can watch you smile at it." He took a step towards her, catching a strand of hair between his fingers. "I want you and that's all that matters."

"It's _not,_" Rionach said firmly. "Lucius, what am I supposed to do when I leave this place? I can't go back to the Muggle world. Even if Fee does somehow manage to track down my old family, I wouldn't be the same girl they'd lost. So what are my options? Stay here, in the Wizarding world with you? Hiding from your father, dealing with prejudice on every front, constantly living in shadow?"

"My father will be dead soon," Lucius replied bluntly. "And I'm Lucius Malfoy. If I tell the world to accept you, they will."

"You can't guarantee that," Rionach said quietly. "For the first time, I'm being given the opportunity to think about my future, and I'm not going to just throw that away. This man, this werewolf… Yes, he's wild, maybe even dangerous. But he knows how to make a life for himself, as he is, and that's something that I'm going to need to learn how to do."

Lucius swore angrily as he shoved his hand in his pocket, bringing out his cigarettes. He deftly lit one, tossing the empty package into the snow. Despite the burn of the cigarette, he felt his blood freeze. "So you don't want to be with me, is that it?"

Rionach stepped back in shock, blue eyes glassy. The final rays of the setting sun hit the back of her hair, outlining her in an orange glow. "How could you say that?"

"It's what it sounds like to me," he muttered, blowing smoke out of his nostrils.

"This isn't about you! Of course I want to be with you. How could you think...after everything we've been through…." She cleared her throat and moved towards him, lifting both hands to his face. "I'm scared of how I feel when I'm with you. I don't understand it. I feel irrational around you, and warm, and a little mad. But your father scares me. Your friends scare me. Even Fee is starting to scare me. This world is so strange to me. And I'm not sure you're going to be able to protect me from as many demons as you think you can."

Lucius stayed silent, smoking, so she continued, dropping her hands from his face. "Are you prepared to face the world with me, every day? A werewolf who can play the piano and make relatively nice drawings? A girl who turns into a monster during every full moon, whom society hates? A wolf that would tear your throat out while the moon is high, despite how you might feel about her?"

"There's so much you don't understand. Rionach, I-" Lucius cut himself off, taking another drag on his cigarette. He thought of his father, of his impassive face while he dragged a knife along an old woman's throat. He thought of his own cage, of the Dark Lord slowly rising, of what was to be expected of him. He thought of Rionach, alone, with only a rabid wolf for protection. He grit his teeth and stepped forward, tossing the cigarette into the snow.

"Look. I know it sounds impossible. But I really can protect you," he said slowly. He read the disbelief in her eyes, and cupped her face gently, bringing his lips down to hers. She was rigid initially, but melted into the kiss, her hand reaching up behind his back. He pulled away to look at her carefully, to show her the determination in his face.

"You're right. My world is a cruel one. But it is still my world, and I want you in it. There are powerful, dark forces at work now. I can't tell you very much...but I can tell you that once my father is dead, I will be the safest person in Britain to stand beside."

Rionach bit her lip, uncertainty written in her face. Lucius pulled her closer, entwining his hands in her hair. "I know it's selfish," he murmured against her forehead. "But I want you beside me, whatever is thrown our way. Understand?"

She nodded mutely, her resolve crumbling. Lucius felt something triumphant rise in him, and grinned against the top of her head, breathing in her fresh, clean scent that was now even sweeter with the Room of Requirement always keeping lavender in the windows, even in winter.

"Fancy seeing you here, Lucius," a crisp, feminine voice intoned a few feet away, her voice slicing through the cool, evening air.

Rionach and Lucius guiltily sprang apart, completely caught off-guard. Narcissa stood slightly in front of Eldred, one hand on her hip, snowflakes softly settling in her hair. She looked mildly amused, whilst Eldred had a strange, wistful look about him.

"Well?" Narcissa asked impatiently, her eyes snapping between the couple.

Lucius cleared his throat. "We were about to walk back to the school, Narcissa, if you and Worple would like to join us?"

Eldred opened his mouth to reply, but Narcissa swiftly cut him off. "We would." She stepped towards Rionach and quickly looped her arm through hers, though the amused look had faded and was replaced with something much less friendly. "Why don't you and I walk together. We can leave the boys to their conversation."

Rionach opened her mouth, saw Lucius's warning look, and quickly closed it, opting to simply nod and accept Narcissa's lead.

Lucius and Eldred fell back, the blond keeping his eyes keenly trained on the back of Rionach's head, while Eldred stared up at the stars.

"How was your day?" Eldred asked after a few moments.

"Interesting," Lucius muttered distractedly. He could hear Narcissa's laughter floating down from the top of the hill, while Rionach remained silent.

After a pause, Eldred added, "My day was fantastic, thanks for asking."

"Hmm?" Lucius brushed some snow out of his coat as they approached the castle entrance, his gaze sliding over to his friend.

"Never mind," the other boy answered. Before stepping through to join the girls, he paused, taking off his glasses and wiping wet snow from the lenses. "Lucius, can I ask you a question?"

Lucius made a small sound of impatience, but at the serious look on his friend's face, he quietened and nodded.

"When you look at Rionach… it's like the rest of the world doesn't matter anymore. Like all you need in life is to be with her, at her side. And when she looks back at you, your whole face changes. I've never seen you so happy." Eldred's face reddened, and Lucius shifted uncomfortably, but the former stood his ground, bravely continuing with his little speech.

"I know. It's strange to talk about. But I've heard what Fee says about the two of you, about how this will end badly…" At that, he looked away, avoiding Lucius's gaze. "And I just want to know. Do you love her?"

Lucius's fist clenched and unclenched, his knuckles white. "I don't see how-"

"I'm only asking," Eldred hurriedly cut in, "because you're my friend, and that look on your face...it's how I look at Narcissa, every day, and now she seems to want me, _me, _Eldred Worple, and it makes me want to do ridiculous things, maybe even dangerous things, to show her how much I love her…"

Lucius swallowed nervously, the cold air biting his lungs. "Ah, Eldred, about Narcissa…"

"What about her?" Eldred asked, apprehension in his eyes. "Did she say something about me?"

"No, I haven't spoken to her about you at all," Lucius hastily replied. "I just, ah...I wanted to congratulate you, actually. You've liked her for such a long time, and to finally take her to Hogsmeade...well, you deserve it."

Eldred's face broke into a grin, and he looked back at Lucius proudly. "Thanks, mate."

Lucius clapped him on the shoulder, then turned towards the doors. "Come on. Let's rejoin the ladies."

Eldred nodded. "I wonder what Narcissa was talking to her about."

Lucius shrugged, doing his best to appear impassive. "Probably nothing important."

Eldred nodded and held the door open for his friend. The two walked in to find Rionach quietly leaning against the wall while Narcissa chatted non-stop beside her.

"He was such a gorgeous child, of course, I mean, look at him now! And our families always spent so much time together, I daresay Lucius knows more about me than anyone else in the world, isn't that something? Of course, once we came to Hogwarts, he had his friends and I have mine, but there's always been… Ah! Boys! How wonderful of you to finally join us," Narcissa exclaimed, swooping over towards Eldred and giving him a peck on the cheek, her eyes trained on Lucius.

"Oh, we were just catching up," Eldred replied gruffly, grinning while staring at his feet.

"I'll walk Susi to Ravenclaw Tower," Lucius announced, and Rionach quickly went to stand beside him, though she kept some distance between them.

"I'll see you back in the dungeons, Lucius," Narcissa said pointedly, an eyebrow raised. "Come along, Eldred."

Eldred scurried to her side, and with a toss of blonde hair, the two disappeared down the stairs. Lucius and Rionach waited until their footsteps could no longer be heard, then turned in the direction of the Room of Requirement.

* * *

"What was Narcissa talking to you about?" Lucius asked once they were in the Room. He slouched into the corner of one of the couches, gesturing for Rionach to join him. She complied, leaning delicately against his side.

"Mostly you, actually," the red-haired girl answered, taking his hand in hers. His thumb stroked the side of her palm, the tiny movement sending shivers down her spine. "I think she likes you. She might be using Eldred to make you jealous."

"Is she now?" Lucius murmured, his eyes unfocused as he stared into the fireplace.

"Mmm," Rionach replied, her brow furrowed. "Does it bother you, to know your friend is being used like that?"

Lucius shrugged, tearing his gaze away from the flames. "If it makes both of them happy, I don't really see the problem."

Rionach frowned. "But what about-" she was abruptly cut off as he leaned down to kiss her, his lips firm against her protests. She sighed against his mouth and leaned back, his hand supporting her between her shoulder blades, her hands moving up to his neck, cradling his jaw.

Lucius moved his hand to her waist and let her fall back onto the couch, his lips travelling down to her neck. She felt a knot tighten in her stomach, loose threads travelling down her thighs, up her spine, spreading through her neck. Her chin tilted upwards as his mouth brushed against her collarbone, his warm, broad chest pressing against her breasts.

Rionach's hands moved down to the edge of his shirt, pulling at the soft fabric to feel the smooth skin beneath. Lucius leaned back and took the shirt off entirely, revealing ice-white skin, part of his hair undone from the braid and hanging in his face. He cocked his head to the side, a strange, predatory look on his face, and leaned forward, his hands moving to the buttons on her shirt.

"Lucius… Wait…" she murmured, propping herself up on an elbow and gently pushing his chest away. He dutifully paused, a strand of pale hair stuck to his lips, eyes impossibly dark.

They stared at each other for a moment, Lucius's heavy breathing slowly lightening, Rionach keeping her hand on his chest. Unbidden, the image of Fenrir tracing her scar with his finger came back to her. What if he was right? Would Lucius still kiss her, like this, if her scars were visible? She turned her face away, trying to hide the uncertainty she felt.

"I'll sleep in the dungeons tonight," Lucius said quietly, misinterpreting her shyness. He moved backwards, lifting his shirt back over his head.

Rionach nodded thankfully, then remembered Narcissa's parting comment at the school's entrance-way. "Narcissa is probably waiting for you."

Lucius rolled his eyes as he stood, putting his shoes back on. "Like I care."

Rionach grinned, standing as well. When Lucius was done with his shoes, she stepped close to him, wrapping her arms around his waist. "What _does_ Lucius Malfoy care about?"

He smiled back, resting a hand on the nape of her neck. "Fame. Fortune. Pretty girls."

"Not just any pretty girls, I hope," Rionach said playfully, attempting to look put out.

"No. Just _my _pretty girl. Who isn't just pretty," he added, his expression turned serious. "She's beautiful. And strong. And I think I might…" He trailed off, closing his eyes, his hand falling from her neck.

"You think you might what?" Rionach asked softly, her arms tightening around his waist. Her breath caught in her throat; she wanted to hear the words, but she was terrified of them.

Lucius shook his head. "A thought for another night." He kissed her gently, fighting to keep his breath even, then moved away, fingernails digging into the palms of his hands.

When he was gone, Rionach sat on the floor in front of the fire, and eventually fell asleep next to the flames, her dreams filled with wolves and dark figures and Fenrir's cold, grim face.

* * *

_Eldred_

Many hours later, he slipped out of the Slytherin common room, bare feet padding silently against the cold, stone floor. He managed to avoid detection all the way to the Owlery, a small scrap of parchment clutched in his hand.

When he arrived, he paused, and moved away from the rows of sleeping birds, staring out at the cold, night sky. A sliver of moon illuminated the sky. He looked down at the writing on the parchment, took a deep breath, then walked over to one of the school owls and stroked her back until her golden-yellow eyes peered up at him.

"I'm sorry for waking you up in the middle of the night," he said quietly. The owl continued to stare up at him, her feathers ruffled, but dutifully stuck out a foot for him to tie his letter to. He carefully folded the few words he'd written:

_I can't do this anymore. Sorry. E.W._

He murmured the destination to the owl, and after a few treats and more back stroking, she finally flew off, moonlight spilling over her wings as she disappeared into the night.


	15. Chapter XV

**Chapter Fifteen – Revelation**

* * *

_There is a face beneath this mask, but it isn't me.  
__I'm no more that face than I am the muscles beneath it,  
__or the bones beneath that._

From **V for Vendetta **by Steve Moore

* * *

**January 18th, 1970 - Waxing Gibbous Moon  
****The Quidditch Pitch, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft &amp; Wizardry**

_Lucius_

"Malfoy, if you don't get your head out of your arse _now, _I'm benching you during Friday's game!" Silas Flint roared as he soared past his Keeper, brutally shoving his shoulder on the way.

He grit his teeth and tightened his hands around his broom, staying silent. Agatha Yaxley swooped down to hover in front of him, snickering at his discomfort.

"Need a few minutes to write to Daddy and let him know the other kids are being mean, Malfoy?" she called, tossing her hair, though it backfired when a particularly cold gust of wind knocked her off-balance.

Lucius snickered. "Mind your broom, Yaxley. I imagine it's the only thing to ever go between your legs; what a shame for your first time."

The girl's eyes narrowed as she shifted her weight and pulled up on her broom, bringing her back up to eye-level. "Careful, Malfoy. You have too many secrets to be mouthing off to people who hardly need a reason to take you down."

Lucius whitened, completely missing the Quaffle as it flew through one of the hoops behind him. Instead, as a Bludger passed his way, he flipped forward on his broom so the end of the handle hit the ball dead-on, sending it flying straight towards Yaxley's face. She was able to swerve away just in time before nearly falling, only just managing to stay aloft. His teammates yelled in disapproval. Flint angrily gestured at the ground, motioning for everyone to dismount.

The moment his boots touched frozen earth, Lucius felt himself being dragged up by his robes then roughly shoved back onto the ground. His head knocked backwards, sending a painful shudder down his neck. Dazed, he blinked up at his furious captain, who loomed over him, hands clenched at his sides.

"What. Did I. Say." Flint growled. Lucius sat up slowly, brushing snow from his hair and robes. "What in Salazar's name was that, Malfoy? You think it's funny, knocking a teammate off her broom for no reason? Do you think it's funny that we are more than halfway through the season and _somehow _have won fewer games than both Gryffindor _and _Hufflepuff? _What is wrong with you?_"

Lucius shook uncontrollably as he stood, cracking his back as he rolled his shoulders. "There is nothing wrong with me, Captain," he said evenly. "It's _her _I can't stand." Behind Flint, Yaxley was making a big show of putting her hand to her head where she was insisting the Bludger had lightly grazed her. At one point she paused to grin triumphantly in Lucius's direction.

"I don't know what's going on here, and I don't like it. Slytherins take care of their own," Flint said gravely. "Unless you figure out whatever this is by Friday, you won't be playing in that match." Everyone other than Yaxley groaned in protest, unimpressed with the idea of using their substitute Keeper for an entire game.

Lucius shrugged as he summoned his broom to his hand. "Fine by me." He moved to walk away, but Flint's hand reached out to stop him, holding his shoulder tightly. The other students shuffled around them, walking ahead to the change rooms.

"That's it? That's all you have to say, to me, to your teammates?" Lucius stubbornly looked away while his Captain tried to catch his eye. "You're satisfied?"

"Let go of me," Lucius said quietly, his body tensing.

Flint felt the change in him, and dug his fingers further into his shoulder. "Not until you explain yourself."

"I owe you nothing," Lucius replied coldly.

Flint's features hardened. "You know, I'm getting a bit sick of you, Malfoy." At this, Lucius finally turned his head to look at him, causing the other boy to snort. "Oh yes, it's possible for one to not be in awe of the great and terrible Malfoy name. See, you think you're better than me - than all of us. I've put up with it, because you're a good Keeper, and half the Wizarding world is terrified of your father. But right here, right now, it's just you and me."

Lucius shifted his weight to his left foot and bent his knees slightly, preparing to spring forward. "Lucky for you, then, Flint."

"Yes, lucky for me," the larger boy shot back, tightening his grip even further. Lucius inhaled sharply as he tried to keep his expression neutral. He suddenly noticed how quiet the grounds were. The sun was nearly hidden, the snow having ceased to swirl around them, instead gently blowing along the drifts that formed against the stands.

Flint's grip momentarily loosened as he moved to punch Lucius in the face, but the other boy was ready for him, rolling forward in the snow just in time to miss the blow. He started to turn on his heel, ready to deliver a punch of his own, but Flint was surprisingly quick for being so large, and met him halfway with a kick to the gut.

As Lucius doubled over, breath knocked out of him, inelegantly wheezing into the snow, Flint's boots crunched forward, stepping into his line of vision. He was still unable to take a breath when he felt a hand grasp onto his hair, wrenching his face upwards.

"Not smirking now, are you, Malfoy?" Flint asked, grinning. His free hand recoiled, ready to deliver the final blow.

Lucius recovered just in time. Flint wasn't holding him back far enough, so he managed to blindly throw his arm upwards, a satisfying _smack _being the result of his fist connecting with his attacker's jaw. Flint let go of his head immediately and stumbled backwards, the back of his skull knocking harshly against the frozen earth. Then he was still.

Lucius walked cautiously over to stand near his captain's head, peering down at the slackened face. He felt something strange and angry, building inside of him. He'd never felt so humiliated. Such a pathetic, brutish boy, not refined or clever at all, and he thought that he could simply toss around a Malfoy like a rag doll.

_This would never have happened to Abraxas._

His fist, though sore and already darkening with bruises, clenched into a fist. His scalp throbbed where Flint had grabbed at his hair. His stomach hurt. The edges of his vision blurred. He raised a foot and let it hover for a moment over Flint's face, wondering how the other boy would manage to smirk properly with a broken nose and no front teeth.

"Lucius!"

He turned swiftly at the shrill call of his name, his pulse pounding in his ears. Fiorenza was running towards him, a jade green scarf billowing behind her.

"He was angry with me," Lucius muttered as the witch swept past him and crouched beside the other boy, leaning forward to check his pulse. A thin line of blood dribbled from the corner of his mouth.

"He's breathing fine, but I think he bit through his tongue," Fiorenza said quickly. She stood and swept the snow from her robes, then stepped back. "You can't be seen like this, Lucius. It's undignified. Go back to the changing rooms. In a moment, I'll go find a professor, tell them I went to meet him, and a Bludger hit him in the face as he was cleaning up. We're Slytherins - Flint won't rat out one of his own. _Go._"

Lucius nodded, then took off towards the school. As he jogged, he flexed his hands, still relishing in the adrenaline rush. He felt so... _alive. _Before entering the change rooms, he looked back once at his friend, standing quietly in the snow, watching him, the blotch of colour from her scarf standing out amid a sea of gray.

* * *

Once changed out of his Quidditch robes, Lucius grabbed his school bag and set off towards the Room of Requirement, intent on forgetting his turbulent afternoon. He entered loudly, dropping his bag on the floor and kicking off his boots in different directions. Rionach watched him from the couch, her expression amused.

"Rough day?" she asked as Lucius walked around the back of the couch, kissed her forehead, then flopped down beside her, his usual poise and reserved movements absent.

"Incredibly," he answered, stretching out and setting his feet on the coffee table.

Rionach crawled up onto his chest, resting her head in the crook of his arm. "Your heart is beating so quickly."

"It always does around you," Lucius replied nonchalantly, closing his eyes.

Rionach lifted her chin slightly. "Did something happen today?"  
Lucius opened one eye to watch her. "Hmm? What do you mean?"

"You seem...different," she muttered, leaning back further. "The energy around you is...restless."

Lucius snorted loudly and closed his eye again. "You sound like a third-year girl in her first Divination class. My energy is fine."

Rionach wrinkled her nose, evidently annoyed. "I have no idea what Divination is, but I can tell by your tone that you're making fun of me."

He grinned, reaching up and flicking her under her chin. "That I am."

She made a grab for his hand, catching his wrist in her grasp. Lucius flinched; he'd forgotten to heal the bruises on his knuckles. "What's this from?"

"A stray Bludger," he lied. "It was hard to see out there, though the wind's died down a bit now. Don't worry about it - I even forgot to heal it, barely hurts at all."

Rionach ran her thumb over his knuckles lightly. "Be careful."

"I will." He dislodged his hand from hers and lightly ran his fingers down her arm. She wore a long, deep blue dress with wide sleeves, and her hair hung loose to her waist. "You look like a Celtic queen today."

"Well, my name does mean 'queenly,' apparently," she replied with a small smile, though her cheeks reddened.

Lucius smirked, then suddenly stood, dislodging Rionach from her position against his chest. "Want to have some fun tonight?" he asked as he turned to her, firelight glinting off his pale hair.

"Like what?" Rionach asked, looking skeptical. "The Room can only offer so much - and Fee's been on our case about being too conspicuous."

Lucius shrugged impatiently. "Forget Fee. Besides, I have an idea that shouldn't involve too many other people."

"Oh?"

"Let's call it a surprise," he said mysteriously, running around the room to recover his shoes. Rionach couldn't believe Lucius's bizarre behaviour; he was practically hopping on one foot as he worked to lace up his boots. "I'll be back soon, all right?"

"Well...all right," she answered uncertainly, standing to kiss him on the cheek before he left as quickly as he'd arrived.

* * *

_Rionach_

Once Lucius was gone, she picked up the book she'd been reading and sat on the floor in front of the fire, trying to keep calm. Her stomach felt as if it were filled with excited little birds, flapping around madly. She read the same sentence six times before giving up and tossing the book aside.

Instead, she wandered over to the vanity that Fiorenza had set up for her after Christmas. She spent some time opening up the various little bottles and jars, lightly touching creams and powders within. After a while, she started to feel silly - as if she was playing a part, the part of a beautiful girl like Fee, who used such products effortlessly and could ensnare a man with one bat of her eyelashes.

She stood, staring out at her little cottage-like room, her entire world. She idly wondered what Fenrir was doing. Was he sitting down to dinner with other werewolves, under the stars in a forest somewhere, counting down the days until his wolf would be free to run beneath the moonlight? A deep, aching longing to run with them, to be free of her cage, filled her chest, and she fidgeted with the sleeves of her dress distractedly, suddenly irritated with the scratchy fabric. Sighing, she recovered her book and once again sat in front of the fire.

Lucius was quick. He returned with a broomstick and a mischievous glint in his eye. Rionach couldn't help but smile the moment he stepped into the room - his mood was infectious.

"Come with me," Lucius gently commanded, extending his hand. Rionach complied, and after casting the Disillusionment charm on both of them, Lucius lead the way through the halls, heading towards the Astronomy Tower.

Right before opening the door to the stairwell, Rionach jerked on Lucius's hand, signalling for him to stop. "There's a notice - some group called the Hogwarts Stargazing Club is meeting tonight," she said, pointing at a piece of parchment tacked to the door.

Lucius followed the line of her not quite invisible hand and grinned, opening the door for her. "Don't worry. I made it up."

"You-"

She was cut off by the sound of heavy footsteps on the stairs above. Lucius pulled her into a small alcove under the steps, covering her mouth with his hand. His broom clattered to the ground. She stayed completely still, eyes wide, her back against the smooth stone wall. The Disillusionment charm was fading; Lucius hadn't quite mastered it as well as Eldred. She watched curiously as the lines of Lucius's face slowly solidified, though cloaked in shadow as they were, some remained blurred.

"Thank you for allowing me to make up the mark, Professor. I will be able to sleep soundly tonight," a girl's voice was saying.

"Not at all, Miss Crawford. You're an excellent student, and I understand your mother has been unwell for some time…"

Lucius moved his right hand from her mouth to the wall beside her face, and pressed himself closer to her, his body thrumming, eyes bright. She leaned back, closed her eyes and parted her lips slightly, breathing quietly through her mouth.

"...but your concern is very much appreciated. I will pass your kind words on to my family…"

His left hand moved up to the nape of her neck, twisting in her hair. He gently pulled at the strands, forcing her chin to tilt upwards. Her eyes stayed closed. He moved his lips down the side of her face, pressing into the meaty flesh between shoulder and neck. She let out a small gasp when his teeth grazed the curve of skin. His right hand flew back over her mouth. He felt her grin against his palm.

"Did you hear something?" the girl's voice asked. Footsteps stilled, just above their heads.

"No, but the Gray Lady does tend to drift through here rather often - perhaps you heard her?"

She held her breath. Lucius pulled harder on her hair, and she scowled at him in the dark. His eyes were mocking her.

"That must be it. Goodnight, Professor."

"Goodnight, Miss Crawford."

They waited a moment after the door closed. Lucius's breath was damp against her neck. He stepped away slowly, disentangling his hand from her hair.

"Let's go."

She smoothed out her hair as Lucius collected his broom, then took his hand as he led her up the stairs of the Astronomy Tower. Once at the top, the cold air bit into her skin. The night was calm and quiet, with little wind. After Lucius placed a warming charm on her, she stepped over to the edge of the parapet to stare out at the grounds.

"Look at how the icy lake shimmers in the starlight," she commented, sighing contentedly as the charm worked its way down to her toes.

"Lovely," Lucius murmured, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. "Would you like to see it up close?"

She turned to him, her eyes flicking warily towards the broom in his other hand. "Is that safe?"

"Safer than riding a thestral up to the castle?" he teased. "Besides, you've seen me fly. You know how it works."

"I also saw you fall," she replied pointedly. "And the thestral was a living, breathing animal that understood me. That's a broomstick. That you've fallen from."

"Don't worry," he said as he stepped behind her, bringing his mouth down to her ear. "I can keep you safe."

She turned her head to the side and closed her eyes for a moment, breathing him in. "What are we waiting for?"

* * *

Flying on a broomstick, she soon found out, was wonderful.

_I don't want to return to my old life…whatever that may be…if it means leaving _this_ behind, _she thought as she moved her chin to rest in the crook of Lucius's shoulder, leaning heavily against his back. The same thestral that had flown them up to the castle, so many months ago now, had flown above the trees and was keeping pace with them along the opposite side of the lake.

"Shall we race him?" Lucius shouted back to her, leaning forward on his broom. She tightened her grip around his waist in response.

The great winged beast matched their speed easily for several minutes, then let out a long, eerie call as it looped back towards the forest. For a brief moment, she considered letting go and falling into the lake; if the ice didn't freeze her to death, she'd swim to shore and find her thestral friend.

Instead, she turned her face into Lucius's hair, and revelled in the feeling of of the wind billowing around them. No barrier between her body and the world.

* * *

Some time later, they sat across from each other in front of the fire, his books and notes spread out between them, along with some sweets and a bottle of elf wine. Lucius lounged onto his side, a cigarette dangling from his lips. Rionach studied a list of curses and counter-curses curiously, her cheeks still pink from the outdoors. She tried to focus on the notes, but every time Lucius looked at her, she felt an electric current sharply run through her.

"How can someone be skilled at the Dark Arts _and_ healing? It seems so contradictory."

"Not really. If you know how to put someone back together, then it's fairly easy to figure out how to take them apart, and vice versa."

"That sounds so harsh."

"Well, it's not as basic as that." He shifted uncomfortably, twisting the serpent ring around his finger. The ash from his cigarette burned his thumb. "I suppose I was attracted to the Dark Arts for the same reasons as I was to forms of healing magic. Both are magic that bind or tear flesh, and both require an exhaustive understanding of humans; how we think, move, react. That's why few wizards and witches are ever particularly accomplished at both. There simply isn't enough time in one lifespan to learn everything about the two disciplines."

Rionach smirked. "But you like a challenge."

"I do. But ultimately I will be focusing on the Dark Arts. The talent for it runs in my family...and there's something very darkly seductive about them. My father and...well, my father, is an incredibly powerful wizard, the sort of power that one cannot achieve without a true understanding of that particular subject."

"You still aspire to be like him, then?"

"No. Well, yes. I yearn to be as powerful as him. But perhaps not as cruel. If I ever have a son, I don't think I'd like him to hate me as much as I hate Abraxas."

Rionach smiled at the thought of Lucius as a father. Would his son have the same pale blond hair, light gray eyes, upturned nose? _He would probably be unbearably spoiled, _she thought wryly, thinking of Lucius's demanding presence. "You could become a Healer, and destroy any chance of being exactly like him."

Lucius snorted. "I _will_ be different. But I can't become a Healer."

"Why not? It's your choice, isn't it? What's giving up a little power in order to spread some good in the world? There is enough cruelty, Lucius."

He frowned, balling up a scrap piece of parchment and tossing it into the fire. "There are other... _players_ in this game. But no matter. Think of it this way...the more powerful I become, the better our chances of being able to stay together."

She smiled sadly at that. "I don't want to be the reason you turn..._dark_."

"You won't be." He rolled onto his back, blowing smoke up towards the ceiling. "Besides, it isn't just about dark and light. Not that simple."

Rionach crawled over the books and parchment on the floor and stretched out beside him, resting her head on her arm. Lucius turned his face towards hers and blinked lazily. She plucked the cigarette from his hand, took a drag, then threw it into the fire.

"With this face, and these clothes, I know you think me vulnerable...even breakable," she said quietly. "But there's still a wolf within. There's darkness in both of us, Lucius. I'm afraid of it destroying _this_...whatever this is. And I don't want _this_ to end."

He leaned forward and kissed her so gently, so exquisitely, that she was sure her heart was breaking. He tasted like smoke and chocolate and wine. She could feel his heartbeat quicken.

His hand moved down her side, lingering along her ribs, the small of her waist, the swell of her hip. She stared at him, drinking him in, her own hand reaching up to lightly touch his jaw, faint stubble rough against her fingertips. His hair was mostly pulled back in a loose braid, rogue strands framing his face. He had never looked so striking.

"Stay here tonight."

His palm rested on her thigh; his eyes seemed fathomless. "Are you sure?"

She tilted her face up and caught his bottom lip lightly in her teeth. He inhaled sharply against her. "_Yes._"

His body shuddered as he leaned down to kiss the hollow of her throat, his breath damp and heavy. She arched back, nails scraping against the wooden floor as his fingers lightly trailed along her collarbone, the other hand slipping under the folds of her skirt, lightly skimming along her calf.

He pulled his face away from hers long enough to say, "Not here. Bed."

She nodded, so he withdrew, then pulled her up into his arms. He kissed her slowly, his hands cupping her face, before leading her to the bedroom.

* * *

He stood behind her, by the bed, fingers tracing the lines of her shoulder blades. She shivered at his touch, making him smirk against her hair. He gathered her curls and swiped them over her shoulder, then gently pulled apart the buttons that formed a line down her back, forcing himself to move slowly, to savour every second. He wanted to remember everything, like the creaminess of her skin against the deep blue of her dress, or how her hair smelled like winter and firesmoke and earth. She was ethereal, a waif-like goddess illuminated by candlelight, the lines of her face and neck sharply beautiful.

The buttons undone, he pulled the fabric to the sides, a pure white V now down the center of her back. As he ran his fingers up and down the ridges of her spine, he felt the indents and raised skin of old scars, and impulsively bent down to brush his lips against them.

She flinched away. "I wish you wouldn't."

He wrapped his hands around her waist, pressed his lips against the edge of her cheekbone. "When I first saw you," he murmured, eyes closed, "I thought you were exquisite. I wanted you then, even dirty and bleeding in the dungeons of the Colosseum. To devour you, to hold you, to see you beneath me..."

She turned her head to the side, resting her chin on her shoulder. He kissed her eyebrow, his palms spreading against her stomach, the heat of him seeping through her, warming her blood. "Do what you'd like," she breathed shakily, leaning back into him.

At her words, he felt himself ache against the stiff material of his trousers, but he took a deep, steadying breath, bringing his hands back up to her shoulders. He slipped his fingers beneath the heavy fabric of the dress, then dragged it down her arms, past her waist, letting the bodice drape around her hips. She was scorching hot; his fingertips burned as they skimmed along the sides of her back.

_I know you think me vulnerable...even breakable._

This woman was not as delicate as she seemed in the candlelight. The sinew and muscle of her back was taught and thick, a strength hidden deep within. Whenever he found a new scar, he kissed it tenderly, nipping her softly with his teeth if she started to flinch away.

"Lucius," she growled, though there was no real anger in it. He grinned, moving to stand in front of her. His gaze wandered down to her breasts, small yet luscious, the nipples flushed and erect. His chest tightened at the sight.

"Yes?"

She tilted her head to the side. "I want to look at you."

He let his hands fall to his sides as she reached up to run her thumbs along his brow bone, back over his ears, then down the sides of his neck. She unclasped the buttons down the front of his shirt as slowly as he had with hers, though her fingers trembled a little.

"Are you afraid?" he asked softly, resting his hands on hers.

She looked up, eyes bright, her tongue darting out over her lips. "I'm afraid of wanting you this much," she whispered.

Her words sliced through his defenses, leaving him heaving with lust, as if nothing was more important than proving to her, at this very moment, how much he wanted-desired-_needed _her. His shirt fell to the floor, then he plastered his body against hers, reveling in the way her breasts felt pressed up against his bare chest. She whimpered against his mouth, her tongue slipping between his teeth, eliciting a deep groan from the back of his throat.

Then her dress was around her ankles, his trousers were in a heap on the floor and she fell beneath him onto the bed. He felt strangely giddy with his erection pressing against her thigh and her fingernails digging into the meaty flesh of his back, and his vision blurred to simple spots of light and colour, the only clarity her impossibly bright eyes staring up at him.

He lifted his face from hers for a moment, and was enraptured at the sight of her, naked and flushed beneath him, her small breasts rising and falling in heavy breaths. Smooth yet scarred and thin yet strong, golden-red hair splayed out around her. She smiled at him, a smile so sweet and bare, that he thought he might never be able to take a breath again.

When he entered her, she pulled his head down to hers so she could kiss him viciously, her hips bucking to meet his. He moaned into her mouth, his hand tightening in her hair. He was so, so _hot_, he could feel the sweat pooling in the crevices of their bodies, his hip bones sliding against hers, her breasts slipping against his chest. His hair was sticking to his neck, a few strands hanging in front of his eyes.

"_Lucius,_" she breathed against his neck.

At the sound of his name he felt something feral and wild and fiercely possessive rise inside of him. He leaned back on his heels and snapped his hips forward, her corresponding moan nearly driving him over the edge.

"_Lucius._"

"Rionach," he gasped, leaning forward, his forehead pressed against hers, his pace quickening, the sounds and smells of their coupling engulfing his senses. He could taste the sweat between her brows, hear the small, quick pants she exhaled against his lips.

"_Lucius_," she sighed into his mouth, her lips barely touching his, and he poured himself into her as a great, roaring wave of pleasure crashed around them, their bodies shuddering with the intensity of it. He buried his face in the crook of her neck, not caring that her skin was liquid fire, only wanting her; her touch, her breath, her sigh.

And then, suddenly, as his breathing slowed and all he smelled was sweet, sweet clover, he realized that he, too, was afraid.

* * *

Late into the night, he watched her sleep, moonlight glinting off the curve of her lips. Sensing his unrest, she turned towards him with eyes still closed, reaching out her arms to pull him against her. She burrowed her face into his neck as he wrapped his arms around her slim shoulders, eyes still wide and fixated on the small sliver of moon peeking in from the side of the window.

She had no nightmares that night, but her words, unbidden, haunted him to the early hours of the morning.

_I'm afraid we'll burn up into ash and drift away in the wind, too scattered to find our way back to each other..._

* * *

**January 19th, 1970 - Waxing Gibbous Moon  
****The Great Hall, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft &amp; Wizardry**

"You're behaving very strangely, Lucius," Eldred said curiously as his friend shovelled mashed potatoes in his mouth, chewing rather more sloppily than usual. Fiorenza looked over, wrinkled her nose, then turned back to a Fourth Year girl that she was sharing hair tips with.

Lucius ignored Eldred until there was a slight pause as he loaded his plate with more roast beef. "Everyone keeps telling me that. I feel fantastic, really. Like today is somehow brighter, the colours more vibrant...the food even tastes better."

"Did you have some sort of near-death experience? Or get a hold of some extra liquid luck in the past twenty-four hours?" Eldred asked, looking incredibly nervous.

"No, no," Lucius muttered. He could practically feel the sharp look Fiorenza was throwing his way. "Just had a good Quidditch practice yesterday. Felt good. Anyhow, that was some Defense class this morning, wasn't it? Can you believe that dodgy old Professor has actually encountered a real vampire before?"

As predicted, Eldred immediately launched into excited chatter about their lesson from earlier that day, leaving Lucius to his thoughts. When they were done eating, he looked around carefully to make sure no one was watching, then scooped bread, cheeses, beef and carrots into a small cauldron he'd brought with him, shrunk it to about the size of a matchbox, then left the Great Hall hurriedly.

After parting ways with Eldred, Lucius made a quick detour back to the Quidditch changing rooms, humming to himself as he gathered a few things he needed. After closing his locker back up, he turned to leave, then froze as he suddenly became aware of someone else in the darkened room.

"Anyone there?" he asked loudly, pulling out his wand and muttering _Lumos. _A pair of dark eyes flecked with amber stared back at him from a scruffy, broad face.

"Evening, Master Malfoy," the man said, mouth split in a wide grin. Lucius caught sight of pointed teeth and swallowed nervously.

"You were talking to my friend in the Three Broomsticks," Lucius said clearly, keeping his voice steady. "Strangers aren't supposed to be able to set foot on Hogwarts grounds."

"I have my ways." The werewolf tilted his head to the side, taking a step towards him. Lucius stood his ground. "Your friend is very pretty," he said casually, scratching his neck with a long, gnarled fingernail. "Except for that scar, of course. Still, I wouldn't mind getting to know her a little better."

"You stay away from her," Lucius growled, raising his wand threateningly. The werewolf chuckled, taking another step forward. Lucius's hand trembled slightly; he could smell sweat and stale blood.

"Oh, I'll stay away, no problem there. But you know, when the time comes, I won't have to find her. Just you wait. Your pretty lass will come to me. All my children do, eventually," he finished, smiling widely.

"You...you're the one that turned her?" Lucius whispered, his face turning white.

The werewolf nodded, moving to lean against the wall. "I must admit, I don't remember all of them. Most are children. They _are_ so much tastier." At this, he breathed in deeply and tilted his head back with a contented sigh. "But when I saw that pretty redhead with her family, all alone in the mountains, I knew that I wanted her in my pack. My only regret is that Wormtail managed to snatch her away before I could, and put her through a Hell only humans could possibly come up with." He snarled viciously at that last, causing Lucius to step back involuntarily. "I tracked her for a while, but..._business _lead me elsewhere. Imagine my surprise when I caught her scent here! You have a fascinating story, I'm sure."

"I'll tell her your true nature," Lucius spit out fiercely. "She'll hate you for this. She will never seek you out."

"Worried, are we?" The rugged man grinned and casually folded his arms across his chest. "No, see, I don't think you will. I did a little digging of my own, and, well, I hear congratulations are in order! For the illustrious Houses of Malfoy and Black are to be united in marriage! And I gather from the way you and your little redhead have been snogging up on the parapet, the lass hasn't the faintest idea about your little arrangement."

Lucius felt the blood in his veins turn to ice. "She can't know."

"She won't...if you don't do anything stupid," the werewolf replied, winking as he tapped his nose.

"I don't understand," Lucius said as he shook his head angrily. "Why tell me any of this at all? Why risk me knowing the truth?"

The man shrugged. "Let's just say, your father owes me a debt," he said cryptically. "And I like to watch you squirm."

Infuriated, Lucius raised his wand in order to throw a stunning curse at the werewolf, but the incantation had hardly formed on his lips when the other man bolted. The red burst from Lucius's wand singed the wall behind him.

Lucius sprinted to the door, cursing himself for being so slow, but was met only with snow and wind.

* * *

_Author's Note: _I know, I know...it's been way too long! I have some good excuses though...got married, changed my major, did some travelling...still, shouldn't have taken this long. Apologies :)


	16. Chapter XVI

**Chapter Sixteen – Unravel**

* * *

_You are a living, breathing impossibility.  
__Both fire and water course through your veins._

**Star E. Daniels**

* * *

**January 21st, 1970 - Night before the Full Moon  
****The Astronomy Tower, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft &amp; Wizardry**

_Lucius_

He lightly touched the hand-drawn star chart that Rionach had made for him the week before, admiring the beauty and precision of his gift. Fiorenza slouched beside him, making small, neat notes on the edges of her charts, while Eldred sat on his other side, reading a book on the diet of Australian giants that was hidden within his Astronomy text. Radiating a faint heat, flaming balls of shimmering blue light drifted above their heads. The students sat along the edge of the parapet while Professor Altair lectured from the center.

"Orion, the Hunter, is visible from October through March in both hemispheres, and is undoubtedly one of the brightest and most beautiful constellations in the winter sky. It was named after the hero of Greek mythology who was killed by Scorpius, the scorpion. The gods felt sorry for Orion, so they put him and his dogs in the sky as constellations, along with all of the animals he hunted. Scorpius was placed on the opposite side of the sky so that Orion would never be hurt by him again. Who can point out Scorpius for me?"

"Scorpius was a clever bloke. I bet Orion was dreadfully annoying and smelled like dog," Lucius muttered to Fiorenza, who chuckled whilst peering through her telescope.

Their Professor looked over with a frown and cleared his throat loudly. "Malfoy? Perhaps when you've finished your little chat with Miss Zabini, you could point out Scorpius for us?"

Lucius flashed a devilish grin. "I would love to, Professor, but actually I can't, as Scorpius is never seen in the sky at the same time as Orion."

Altair smiled thinly. "Correct. A point for Slytherin. And do save your extra comments for when you're back in your common room." At that last, Lucius rolled his eyes at Eldred and Fee, the latter shaking her head as she adjusted the deep blue shawl around her shoulders.

"You seem back to normal," Eldred commented once the lecture had ended and they were left to chart the stars on their own.

Lucius shrugged as he adjusted the dials on his telescope. "Things have been good." It was true. He had barely seen Flint in the past week, his distasteful experience with the werewolf was fading, and things were remarkably peaceful between him and Rionach.

"There's always a calm before the storm…" Fiorenza said airily, ignoring Lucius's look and leaning back against the parapet.

"Are you worried about something?" Eldred asked.

Fiorenza didn't look at him - she was still more or less ignoring Eldred - but answered nonchalantly, "Mmm, I can just feel tension in the air."

"Oh? Worried about O.W.L.s?" Lucius asked, smirking.

Fiorenza scoffed loudly. "Don't be silly. Like I need to worry about my future," she said sarcastically. But then she frowned, crossing her arms. "Surprised you haven't asked about Silas."

Lucius turned back to his charts. "Surprised you haven't gotten around to ditching him for the next happy victim."

She pursed her lips. "He's not at all happy, Lucius. You should be careful. His seventh-year friends are all a fair bit bigger and more experienced than you."

"Flint couldn't formulate a proper revenge plan if he tried - brain's suffocating from the weight of his own ego," Lucius snapped. "Besides, I simply finished what he started. Serves him right for attacking a Malfoy."

"And there, the pleasant mood's gone again. Was nice while it bloody lasted," Eldred muttered. The other two ignored him.

"Being condescending and snobbish about this isn't going to keep you from getting hexed in the back," Fiorenza shot back furiously. "You need to stop pretending everything is happy and normal. Silas is coming after you. We need to figure out something more long-term for Rionach. And as for Narcissa-"

Eldred glanced up curiously. "What about Narcissa?"

"_Nothing,_" Lucius growled. "That's _enough,_ Fee."

"Fine. Have it your way," she grumbled as their Professor announced the end of class. Lucius had barely stood up before she was packed and gone, hurrying away in a rush of cold air and dark curls.

When Lucius turned back to Eldred, his gaze moved a little past him, to where Agatha Yaxley was watching them with her head cocked to one side, a strange expression on her face. Lucius frowned, but the girl simply turned back to her friends and went on ignoring him.

"Think Yaxley was listening in on our conversation?" Lucius whispered, motioning towards the girl in question.

Eldred shrugged. "How would I know? You two weren't being very quiet, though."

"Well, Fee was acting like a silly schoolgirl."

Eldred looked over at him disapprovingly. "You of all people should know that Fiorenza is no silly schoolgirl. Maybe you should listen to her."

"Maybe you both need to stop this incessant questioning."

His friend sighed, defeated. "Have it your way. To the kitchens?"

Lucius picked up his bag and nodded briefly. "After you."

* * *

He ran his finger down the center of her face, tracing along where he knew her scar hid. Her breath hitched at his touch. He lay heavily on top of her, the sheet tangled around his ankles, his back cold from the night breeze. "Does it still hurt?"

"Yes. No. Not physically."

"Maybe I could find a way to heal it."

She shook her head. "Pettigrew tried. Said I was worth more with a pretty face. But the blade that cut me was laced with dark magic; it will be with me forever." She searched his face to discern his feelings. "It bothers you."

"Of course it does," he replied as he rolled to the side, then onto his back. "I don't like thinking about someone marking you like that."

Rionach turned to her side, propping herself up on an elbow. Her eyebrows drew together at his choice of words. "You mean hurting me."

"Hurting you, marking you, whatever. Makes me angry." He turned and pushed a pillow against the wall, then leaned against it while lighting a cigarette.

"It doesn't exactly sit well with me, either," she said as she traced small circles on his stomach with her middle finger. She liked watching the play of light and shadow along his torso. The muscles tightened as he stretched his arms above his head, then slackened as he leaned back onto the pillows. Her hand moved up to his chest, danced along his throat, then loosened the ribbon at the end of his braid and sifted through the white-blond strands. He sighed contentedly and tilted his head back, eyes closing in pleasure.

Rionach dropped her hand. "I've thought long and hard about what I'd do to the werewolf who bit me." Her tone turned bitter. Lucius's eyes snapped open. "Revenge can fill an empty belly behind bars."

He stayed quiet, looking past her face to her thigh, creamy white, folded over top of the coverlet, the rest of her body hidden. Smoke drifted from his nose, curling through the air. Feeling her stare, he had a strange feeling that she could read the uncertainty in his face. His expression hardened, and he tried to add some vehemence to his tone. "If I find him, I'll kill him for you."

She raised an eyebrow. "Or her."

"Hmm?"

"A female werewolf could've bitten me."

He smiled generously. "Right. Or her."

After a pause, she said, "Can we go for a walk tomorrow? I'd like some fresh air before the full moon."

The corners of his mouth tightened. "I have double Potions until three-thirty - that cuts things a little close. It's still getting dark quite early."

"Please?"

Gods, he must be under some sort of spell. When she looked up at him, her delicate, pale face framed with roguish red curls, her mouth slightly open, pleading silently with him, his chest constricted tightly. How could any man say no? "Yes. Of course. I'll meet you here after class. We should have plenty of time for a little stroll around the lake."

Her smile flooded him with warmth. "Thank you." Then her expression shifted, turning mischievous. Her hand trailed lower, past his stomach, pausing at his hip bone. She fluidly raised an eyebrow, then leaned up to lightly brush her lips along his jawline as her hand crept lower still. "I want you…"

Lucius stubbed out his cigarette before reaching out to grasp her chin, bringing his lips down to hers, his other hand sliding along the back of her thigh, roughly pulling her closer to him. When the kiss broke apart, he turned his face into her hair, eyes closed, murmuring words that made her smile against his throat. The rest of the world melted away. There was only her.

* * *

**January 22nd, 1970 - Night of the Full Moon  
****Potions Classroom, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft &amp; Wizardry**

Slughorn's voice seemed to drone on even longer than usual, the monotonous instructions barely reaching his inattentive students. Fiorenza carved a flower into her desk. Eldred was doodling in his Care of Magical Creatures textbook. Two Ravenclaw girls were passing notes without even bothering to hide what they were doing, while a boy sitting behind them was leaning over to try and read over their shoulders.

Once the practical part of class came around, Lucius finished his Draught of Peace quickly, collecting a small sample and cleaning his cauldron with an easy flick of his wand. His lip curled when he looked over at Tracy Crawford, who'd started rinsing her cauldron in the sink.

"Over four years at Hogwarts and the stupid Mudblood still cleans her cauldron by hand," he muttered to Eldred, who snorted after looking over at the small Ravenclaw girl.

"Some of them never learn," he said a little too loudly as the girl in question walked past their desk.

Crawford frowned, placing a hand on her hip as she looked in Eldred's cauldron, lips pursed. "Nearly five years at Hogwarts, and you still can't manage to brew one simple, little potion properly, Worple? Don't be too hard on yourself - some wizards never learn."

Lucius laughed out loud, startling his friend. "It has teeth today!"

Eldred looked scandalized. "Are you really just going to stand there and let her say that to me?" he whispered furiously as Crawford smirked before sauntering away.

Lucius shrugged. "Maybe you should be thinking less about your ego and more about the fact that a Muggle-born just managed to get the best of you."

"You're one to talk. Isn't Crawford the reason you weren't first in the class last year?" Eldred retorted, angrily sifting his botched potion into a vial, not even caring that instead of a silky, smooth white liquid, his had turned out to be a gray sludge-like consistency.

Lucius sighed loudly, rubbing his eyes with the back of his knuckles. "Come on, Worple. I didn't mean it. It's been a long couple of days. I can't have Fee _and_ you mad at me." He watched a muscle in his friend's jaw twitch, and thought back to the summer, before school, before they'd freed a werewolf from his family's dungeon… Life was simpler, then. Just him, his friend, some firewhiskey and the stars. Would things ever go back to normal?

_No, _he thought bitterly; _even without Rionach, everything was about to change._

"Eldred," he said firmly, leaning on his friend's desk as they put their books away, "I'm sorry. I've been a shite friend lately. After my walk with Rionach, let's go for a fly, just the two of us, like old times. I think I've even got some more of that elf wine stashed in the dormitories. What d'you say?"

Eldred stared at him for a moment, then his face broke into a grin. "You're on, Malfoy."

"Excellent," Lucius replied, standing straight before leading the way out of the classroom. "Meet down at the pitch, say, five o'clock?"

"See you then." Eldred gave a small wave before heading towards the common room.

Lucius smiled, turned, then nearly walked straight into Silas Flint, who was lounging against the banister next to Agatha Yaxley and a boy that Lucius recognized as Lysander Yaxley, Agatha's older brother.

Agatha cleared her throat daintily while Silas leered and crossed his arms. "Move along, Malfoy," she tittered.

Lucius paused, eyeing the narrow stairwell that put him in extremely close proximity to the two seventh-year boys if he were to pass first. "After you," he said with a mock flourish of his hand.

"What's the matter, Malfoy? Afraid of us, are you?" Flint sneered.

"Hardly," Lucius replied, trying to add a flippant tone to his words. "I was just raised to be a gentleman - let the ladies go first."

"Careful, Malfoy," Agatha's brother warned.

Lysander wasn't as petty as his sister or as brutish as his friend. Lucius had seen him before; in fact, when Bellatrix was still at Hogwarts, he'd seen them together rather often and had thought the older boy rather intimidating. He was tall and whiplash thin but not at all brittle...there was a chilling grace to his movements, like a cobra waiting to strike. His hair was dark, cut close to his head, and he had pale blue eyes that seemed too light, without depth.

Lucius swallowed self-consciously. He forced himself to relax his fists; his nails were digging into the palms of his hands. "Apologies. But I am late to meet someone, so if you'd excuse me…" He quickly stepped around the little group, keeping his eyes fixed ahead.

"The Ravenclaw who doesn't speak?" Agatha asked lightly from behind him.

Lucius pretended not to hear, quickening his pace once he'd rounded a corner. The back of his neck felt hot. Fiorenza's warnings were ringing in his ears. He pushed them aside furiously, irritated that he was going to be in a sour mood during his time with Rionach. He despised Agatha Yaxley for making him feel that same helpless resentment that he experienced in front of his father. Hogwarts was supposed to be somewhere that he could be free of such trappings.

Before entering the Room of Requirement, he stopped in the boys' lavatory to splash some cold water on his face and take a few deep breaths. His heart was beating fast, panic rising in his belly. He felt like the tight, gnarled knot of lies and deception that had become his life was slowly unraveling, completely outside of his control. He kicked one of the stall doors, wincing when his toe slammed back in his boot, but the smack of the wooden door connecting with the wall was mildly satisfying.

He tied his hair back tightly, slicking strays back with cool water. "You are a _Malfoy_," he said to his reflection, hands gripping the sides of the sink. "Start acting like it."

The nervous, pale boy looking back at him in the mirror didn't seem to be listening. He shook his head and turned on his heel, smoothing out his robes before going to meet Rionach.

* * *

_Rionach_

She turned her face into the wind, relishing in the sharpness of winter's breeze, red hair fanning out behind her. Lucius had an arm wrapped snugly around her waist, and every once in a while he paused to lean over and press his lips to her temple. They talked a little about his classes and the weather, but mostly they wandered around the lake in silence, lost in their own thoughts.

"Are you worried about the full moon tonight?" Lucius asked, eyeing the sun as it dipped ever lower in the sky.

She stiffened beneath his arm, waiting a moment before answering. A lone raven squawked overhead, making her jump. Her eyes followed the bird's flight until it was lost in the snow and grayness of the sky. "A little. I always feel on edge before a transformation." She didn't add that she was mostly nervous now that she'd met Fenrir; was he still in Hogsmeade? Would his presence continue to aggravate her wolf?

"I'll be there, behind the barrier, like always. And tomorrow I don't have morning classes, so we can stay in bed all morning," Lucius said as he gently rubbed her back.

She flashed a bright smile. "That will be lovely." The Quidditch Pitch loomed ahead, castle in the foreground, the sun nearly completely blocked out by one of the towers. "We should get inside. Sun's nearly set… Hey, isn't that the Yaxley girl?"

Lucius squinted in the direction she was pointing, where Agatha was standing in the middle of the pitch, arms crossed and staring straight at them. "She must be waiting for someone," he muttered, abruptly turning towards the school's main doors instead of the smaller entrance near the pitch.

As they got closer, though, he was able to make out Silas Flint's tall, bulky figure, standing directly in the middle of the entranceway. Lucius paused a few feet away, motioning for Rionach to do the same. She glanced at him curiously, but obeyed. He slowly pulled out his wand, watching the other boy carefully.

"_Expelliarmus!_"

The spell was yelled from Lucius's far right; his wand leaped from his hand instantly and was caught by Lysander Yaxley.

Lucius just stood there, gaping, shocked at being caught unawares. Flint took the opportunity to close the distance between them in three long steps, then roughly gripped Lucius's arms behind his back and started to drag him towards Agatha.

Lysander moved forward to do the same to Rionach, but she reacted faster. She threw her elbow back into the tall boy's chest before leaping forward to help Lucius. Lysander grunted in surprise, taken off-guard by her strength, but managed to throw out a rope-binding curse as he hit the ground. Rionach fell forward into the snow, tasting blood as she bit the inside of her cheek.

"You're stronger than you look," her attacker commented matter-of-factly before hauling her to her feet and pulling her towards the others. She opened her mouth to scream. Lysander rolled his eyes exaggeratedly before muttering "_Silentium" _in a bored voice. Her vocal chords promptly stopped working.

"Sorry about all this," Lysander said as he dragged her along, his tone completely unapologetic. "From what Flint tells me, you're a quiet shadow behind Malfoy most of the time. None of this really concerns you."

Rionach strained against her bindings, but the more she struggled, the tighter they pulled. She lunged towards Lysander, teeth snapping at his neck, but he merely laughed and kept her at arm's length, shaking his head as if she were a pesky kitten.

_Something's not right with his eyes, _she thought with a shiver. When he laughed, his eyes retained an eerie, dead-like stare, rarely blinking and impossibly pale.

Once they were standing near Lucius, Silas and Agatha, Lysander removed the silencing spell, but whispered in her ear before doing so: "I wouldn't scream if I were you, darling. Things will only worsen for your little boyfriend." Rionach blew out of her nose indignantly, but stayed quiet. The rope-binding curse remained intact, and Lysander's fingers dug painfully into her forearm.

"Hello Lucius. And you...whatever your name is," Agatha said dismissively.

"What are you doing, Yaxley?" Lucius said quietly, though his gaze was completely focused on Rionach.

"Returning a favour," Agatha replied before nodding towards Flint. "There, my brother got him and his little girlfriend for you. Debt repaid, yes?"

Silas grinned, cracking his knuckles loudly. "Indeed."

Agatha stepped back, face impassive. Silas took out his wand, then hexed Lucius with a body-bind curse. Lucius's limbs snapped to his sides and he fell to the side, into the snow, his eyes still trained on Rionach.

Silas turned towards the red-haired girl. "Did Malfoy tell you about our little...altercation last week?"

Her eyes flickered towards Lucius for barely a second before she coolly answered, "Of course he did."

Silas raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Oh? So he told you about how he got those bruises on his knuckles by knocking out his Quidditch _Captain _and leaving him in the snow to freeze?"

She lost composure for barely a moment, but it was enough. Silas smiled wider. "I didn't think so."

"Lucius…" She didn't know what she hoped to accomplish by saying his name. She stared hard at his face, trying to find some sort of explanation in his frozen features. "Let him speak," she pleaded, turning her face towards Agatha, hoping to find sympathy within the other girl. "Let him defend himself…"

"Oh, I don't doubt he'd be able to lie convincingly a second time around - Malfoys are notorious little snakes," Silas said as he moved closer to her. He smelled like firewhiskey. The wolf within gnashed her teeth.

"Your accent...it's not particularly foreign, is it?" Silas asked as he started to slowly circle her and Lysander.

She inhaled sharply. In all of the commotion, she'd completely forgotten her Estonian alias. "I've been working on it," she muttered, keeping her eyes on Lucius. _Please don't question me further…_

Luckily, Silas seemed more interested in revenge than her identity, though she noticed Agatha's eyes narrow. Silas finished circling and stopped barely six inches in front of her. His breath was damp on her forehead. "I'd like to repay Lucius for how he left me."

Rionach looked up at him incredulously. "Like this? Three to one? While he can't even move? That's despicable."

Silas raised his eyebrows, then shook his head slightly. "Your opinion of my character hardly matters to me, stupid girl - you're talking to the wrong House. We use any means at our disposal in order to achieve our ends. And right now," he looked at her meaningfully, "I have the means to get more than even."

"Wha-" she barely managed to form the word when Silas's fist came crashing into her cheek. Pain immediately flared up all along to her ear, throbbing and fierce. She'd barely recovered when his fist knocked into the other side of her face, closer to her chin this time. She fell forward, completely slack, her bonds and Lysander's grip the only things keeping her from catapulting face-first into the snow. Through the pain, one thought remained - _why had Lucius lied?_

Silas stepped closer, his lips brushing against her ear. "It's nothing personal, love." He was barely audible over the ringing in her ears. Then he pulled back his fist and brought it forward with all his strength, just below her ribs.

Her breath was completely knocked from her. Her vision blurred and the edges turned black, but she didn't pass out completely. When she finally managed to take a deep, shuddering breath, her stomach protested violently, upheaving its contents onto the ground.

"Silas…" Agatha's voice wavered a little. Rionach could barely lift her head - it felt unbearably heavy - but she heard the uncertainty in her tone. "I think that's probably enough."

The burly boy moved to Rionach's side and crouched on one knee so he could look up at her face, which was drooping down towards the small puddle of vomit. She'd endured worse...so much worse...but she didn't have any fight in her. She ignored all of them, even Lucius's horrified face, instead staying limp with her eyes half-closed, letting a lone tear leak down her face.

Silas grunted his agreement with Agatha. "All yours."

Agatha stepped forward, a small pouch and a folded piece of parchment in her hand. "Tie up Lucius, then end the body-bind" she instructed Silas. "I want to see the expression on his face." He nodded and did as she said, then went to stand behind Lucius, gripping his bound wrists behind his back.

When he could speak again, Lucius turned his face slowly to the side so he could look at Silas from the corner of his eye. "I'll kill you for this."

Silas laughed, then clapped a hand on Lucius's back in mock camaraderie. "Don't be stupid, Malfoy. She has you to thank for those bruises."

Lucius stayed quiet.

Agatha cleared her throat primly, the uncertainty in her voice gone. "I warned you to be careful. Everyone knows you have secrets, and you should never, ever cross a Yaxley." Behind Rionach, Lysander smiled coldly. "So I had my brother go through your things in your dormitory. And I must say, I was very impressed, Malfoy. You keep a clean and tidy trunk. Smart."

Lucius said nothing. His gaze never left Rionach. She continued to stare at the ground, her face slowly becoming more colourful and puffy.

"I nearly called off the search. You're hardly worth _that _much time and energy, after all. But then I heard Zabini talking about your little feud with Silas here, and I thought, well, how perfect for me! He wanted to get to you...and, as Quidditch Captain, he had the keys to your locker in the Quidditch change rooms."

Lucius's eyes snapped towards Agatha's. She smiled cruelly. "Oh yes. Did you not know that? He's only supposed to go through his teams' lockers for emergencies, but...we Slytherins always do excel at making deals, don't we?"

Lucius felt his mouth go dry. "You cow…" he said hoarsely. Silas kicked the back of his knee in response.

"And wouldn't you know, I found the most _fascinating _letter. Would you like to read it, or shall I…?" Without waiting for a response, she went ahead and read:

_Lucius,_

_I have written to inform you that arrangements for your betrothal to Narcissa Black have gone smoothly. As such, the betrothal will be sealed this month's full moon, on the 22nd. Please find enclosed the family ring that you are to present to Miss Black as soon as the contract has been signed._

_Uphold the family name. Purity will always conquer._

_Abraxas Tiberius Malfoy_

Rionach slowly raised her head. Everything felt so still. The ringing in her ears faded. Once again, she felt as if she'd been punched in the stomach, but instead of the fist withdrawing, it crawled up and wrapped around her heart, squeezing painfully. She leaned back against Lysander, away from Lucius, who was begging her with his eyes.

Agatha shook her head at Rionach's stricken face. "Oh dear. Did I tell you something you didn't know?" She giggled girlishly, then lightly pulled on the drawstrings of the pouch, plucking out the Malfoy family ring. "A little gaudy for my taste, but lucky for you, Lucius, Narcissa looks pretty in anything."

"Please…" he whispered, dropping to his knees in the snow, straining against his bonds. "Let me explain…"

"_Stupefy!"_

Lysander crumpled behind Rionach, causing her to fall back onto him. Silas yelled something unintelligible and let go of Lucius, who immediately turned and crashed his forehead into the Quidditch Captain's nose. Another stunning spell was shouted from somewhere vaguely to Rionach's right side, and Silas fell back, unconscious. Lysander managed to stand back up and run towards the castle, throwing a hex over his shoulder that missed all of them. Somehow, in the commotion, Agatha disappeared, leaving the letter and ring in the snow.

Rionach's, then Lucius's bonds disappeared. Lucius stumbled to his feet, dazed, as Eldred materialized beside him, then rushed towards the girl, crouching beside her. His wand lay a few inches away, so he quickly grabbed it as she carefully sat up. She turned her face to the side as he cast a warming spell and healed a few cuts and bruises.

"Talk to me," he breathed, his voice trembling. "Say anything. Please." He hesitantly reached out to brush her hair from her where it stuck to the bile on her chin.

She turned her face to him, red-rimmed eyes glittering with fury. "Don't touch me!" she snarled, shoving his hand away with her fists.

He felt something break inside of him. Numbly, he slowly stood, watching her throat as she swallowed her sobs. Eldred stepped forward into his line of vision, forcing him back to reality.

"How did you…?"

"We were supposed to meet here. I saw them. Disillusionment charm. Works well in this type of weather. And they weren't really paying attention," Eldred mumbled, staring at the ground.

Lucius felt himself nod as the other boy talked. He was strangely aware of how the snow was soaking through his boots, turning his feet icy cold. Wet snowflakes dripped down his cheeks. He chewed at his lower lip, dry skin ripping off in salty flakes.

Eldred's voice, strangely hollow-sounding, tore through the wind and snow.

"I heard everything."

Lucius felt the last of his energy melt from his body. "I don't know what to say."

"How could you, Lucius?" Eldred whispered. His voice was choked; he seemed to struggle to spit out his words. "How long have you known?"

He was finding it difficult to breathe. His face burned against the wind. "Please, if we could not talk about this right now..."

"WE WILL TALK ABOUT IT _RIGHT_ NOW!" Eldred roared, his voice echoing around the pitch.

Rionach didn't even twitch. Lucius's hands balled into fists. "_All_ _right_. I've known since...end of Christmas hols. But…" he trailed off, looking down shame-facedly.

"But WHAT?"

Eldred looked terrifying. Lucius closed his eyes briefly. "My father's been planning on marrying me off to Narcissa for a long time. Years. It's not like I had a choice in the matter…"

"You had the choice to tell your friend," Eldred growled.

"I was going to! But I didn't think...well...honestly I thought you'd grow out of it, move on or something…" He raised his hands helplessly. "I never thought _this _would happen!"

"So you knew when Narcissa asked me to Hogsmeade."

Lucius closed his eyes again. "Yes."

"You knew she wasn't really interested in me."

"Yes…"

"And you let me take her anyway. Fawn over her, buy her things, tell her I'd waited so long for that moment. Gods, Lucius. I told you I was in love with her! I thought you were better than this."

Lucius cringed at that last. "I know! I'm a bloody awful person, all right? I know. I've done things...to you, to Rionach, to...well, others. I should've been honest, I was just so wrapped up in my own problems. I was going to find a way to take care of this. I didn't even think…"

"No, you didn't." Eldred said coolly. "You never think about anyone but yourself."

"Eldred," Lucius started, but broke off when he looked over at Rionach, his eyes widening in horror.

"Let me finish! You treat me like I'm _beneath _you all the time, and meanwhile you're running around lying to everyone, hiding the scumbag you really are-"

"_Eldred_," Lucius said urgently, slowly stepping backwards.

"Stop interrupting! I can't believe I actually spent time feeling sorry for you-"

"ELDRED!" Lucius bellowed, pointing at Rionach. "It's the full moon! _LOOK_!"

Rionach had rolled over to her side and was panting loudly, her eyes turning yellow, her nails and teeth starting to elongate. She scrambled to her feet and threw one last anguished look towards the boys, then turned and ran as fast as she could towards the Forbidden Forest.

"Rionach!" Lucius yelled, taking a few half-hearted steps forward, his voice muffled by the wind. "I'm sorry…" He fell to his knees, his head falling into his hands. Eldred stood behind him, unmoving, fear and shock etched on his face.

_I'm afraid we'll burn up into ash and drift away in the wind, too scattered to find our way back to each other..._

Lucius swore loudly, raising his head just as Rionach disappeared into the trees. "She's gone…"

They both flinched as a blood-curdling howl pierced through the air. Eldred shook himself, gathered the ring and parchment and dropped them in front of the other boy. "They are going to pay for this," Lucius whispered into his hands.

Eldred shook his head slowly as he stepped back. "You have no one to blame but yourself." He looked over to where Flint still lay, unconscious, blood smearing his mouth and chin. "You're no better than him," he said, then turned, leaving his friend alone in the freezing wind.

* * *

She ran.

As she ran, she occasionally stumbled, the pain of the transformation taking over, her limbs protesting against the jarring rhythm of her gait. Every time another change ripped through her body, she gritted her teeth and welcomed the feeling. Every moment of pain was a moment not spent thinking about him.

She couldn't think about him. About the exquisite lines of his face or the coarse texture of his hands. The broadness of his shoulders, the salty taste of his chest. She couldn't think about how he'd held her, deep into the night, his lips whispering into her hair; _I love you as certain dark things are to be loved, in secret, between the shadow and the soul...I love you as I love the smell of the rain, or the warmth of an autumn sunset, or the feel of fresh snowflakes on my cheeks. I love you..._

She couldn't think about his betrayal. She refused.

She needed to focus on reaching the forest before she lost herself, her humanity, to the wolf within.

* * *

A slim girl with gold-red hair to her waist sprinted into the Forbidden Forest, her breath ragged, her face troubled.

Beyond the trees, a reddish-furred wolf bounded in delight over mounds of snow and sticks, pleased to finally be free to roam unrestrained. As the moon crept higher into the winter sky, partially obscured by snow and clouds, the wolf lowered her snout to the ground, a tantalizing and familiar scent enveloping her senses. Amber eyes gleaming in the dark, she howled joyfully into the night.

* * *

_Lucius_

"I'm going to hurt them. All of them. Flint, Yaxley, and her ugly, inbred brother," he growled, punctuating his words with the crash of glasses and candlesticks that he was flinging at the walls of the Room of Requirement. Fiorenza sat behind him quietly, her hands carefully folded on her lap, her eyes sad.

"You can't do anything right now, Lucius. They know too much - you said Silas even made a note of Rionach's accent. If you try anything, they'll go to the headmaster, who will go to Abraxas."

"Not if I kill them," he countered, picking up a vase and chucking it at the fireplace.

Fiorenza sighed. "You can't kill three people in one school and hope to remain undiscovered. And you can't do very much for Rionach from behind Azkaban's bars."

"I'm a Malfoy. I'll do whatever I bloody like," Lucius seethed, kicking at the coals of the fire. Sparks flew up around his boot. "I should have killed Flint while I had him unconscious out there. If it weren't for that oafish gameskeeper making his rounds, I wouldn't have had to run…"

"Stop acting like a four-year-old," Fiorenza said testily. Lucius opened his mouth to retort, but she silenced him with a glare. "Eldred was right. You got yourself into this mess, Lucius. All you can do now is wait and hope that Rionach returns tomorrow."

He stilled, then turned slowly, expression dark, his frame illuminated by the flames. "What do you mean, I can _hope_?"

"Well, assuming she doesn't run into Hogsmeade and bite anyone, she'll wake up alone, free, and with the knowledge that not _only_ did you string her along-"

"I did no such thing. I planned on figuring out a way to break the contract with Narcissa," Lucius interrupted.

Fiorenza ignored him. "-in full knowledge that you were betrothed to someone else, but _also_ that Silas using her as a punching bag was a direct result of your stupid fight with him - that you didn't even bother telling her about!"  
"I didn't think I needed to!" Lucius yelled, turning back towards the fire and placing his palms on the mantle. His voice turned quiet and hoarse. "How could I know he would do that to her?"

"I'm surprised as well...I didn't know he was capable of that," Fiorenza admitted. "It's barbaric."

They were both silent for a long moment. Fiorenza got up from the couch, moving to stand directly behind Lucius. She put a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Hey...we'll figure this out."

A massive shudder rippled through him. He bent forward, letting his forehead rest against the hot wood of the mantle. "She has to come back. She will come back...won't she?"

Fiorenza squeezed his shoulder tightly. "I don't know, Lucius. Only time will tell." After a pause, she added, "You should probably sleep here tonight."

Lucius nodded slightly, then turned back towards his friend. Her hand fell away. "I will."

Fiorenza gave him a small smile, then stepped away, gathering her robes around her. "Try to get some sleep. We'll talk in the morning."

He said nothing as she quietly closed the door behind her.

* * *

He felt cold, alone in the bed he'd shared with her so many times. The room smelled like lavender, damp earth and clover. Loneliness burned so deep in his gut, his entire body ached. But still, he lay there, not bothering to close the window or crawl under the blankets, simply staring blankly at the dark ceiling above.

* * *

_Eldred_

On the other side of the castle, he crept quietly up the stairs to the Owlery, his face resolute, eyes dark. Once he reached the top, he pulled a small scrap of parchment out of his pocket, scribbled a few words down, then tied the paper to the leg of one of the school's owls.

After watching the bird fly off into the snowy night, he reflected on his choice, wondering, not for the first time, if it was all worth it. His mind flit back to the day's events, and his mouth hardened into a thin line. Turning back towards the stairs, he let go of all his misgivings, letting them fly off into the night along with the owl and the wind.

* * *

_Author's Note:_ "I love you as certain dark things are to be loved, in secret, between the shadow and the soul..." is from Pablo Neruda's _100 Love Sonnets_. Stumbled across it when doing some research for my wedding vows, and immediately knew it was meant for Lucius &amp; Rionach.


	17. Chapter XVII

**Chapter Seventeen – Ruthless**

* * *

_You must be careful in the forest of thorns.  
__There are tales about creatures that kill anyone  
__Who is foolish enough to cross this way.  
__Anyone who goes in,  
__Never comes out._

**Unknown**

* * *

**March 21st, 1970 - Spring Equinox  
****The North Tower, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft &amp; Wizardry**

Lucius and Fiorenza sat opposite each other on the floor, tucked away in a quiet space in the North Tower, away from the students going to and from Divination. Leaning against a massive window, they both watched the spring rain trickle down the glass. The air was thick and heavy. Lucius felt a headache rising with the change in air pressure; a storm was brewing.

"Two months," he said quietly, tapping the glass with his finger. Fiorenza said nothing. "Tomorrow it will be two months since she left."

The rain hit the glass harder. Fiorenza drew the hood of her robes up over her head, long lashes and pale skin peeking out from beneath the dark fabric. "I loathe storms."

Lucius gave her a small smile, reaching over to pat her knee. "It won't last."

Somewhere high in the tower, a young girl laughed freely, the pure, ringing sound fluttering off the stone walls. Lucius winced at the sound, withdrawing his hand and returning his gaze to the rain.

Fiorenza gathered her knees up to her chest, then kicked off her shoes, flexing her stocking-covered toes. "Are you still planning on taking Narcissa to Slughorn's party tonight?"

"I don't really have a choice." His voice was laced with so much defeat.

Fiorenza shook her head. "There's always a choice."

"Not for cowards like me."

"Oh, Lucius."

He kept his face turned away. "Fee, do you still dance?"

She gave him a startled glance. "Occasionally. Not as much as I used to."

"Show me?"

She drew her hood back, her expression startled. "Why?"

He shrugged. "I feel desperate for something beautiful."

She gave no reply, instead fluidly rising to her feet in one smooth motion. She took off her outer robes, her jumper and her tie, then rolled up the sleeves of her shirt and gathered her hair into a loose knot at the nape of her neck.

Lucius stood and wandered over to the staircase opposite the window, where he sat on the second-last step, knees apart and hands loosely clasped.

"There's no music," Fiorenza remarked as she slid into ballet's first position in the center of the space, her back to the window.

Lucius tilted his head to look past her, to the storm that raged above. "Thunder and wind will be your song."

She nodded mutely, raising one arm elegantly, the other drifting behind her. Lightning flashed at her back. When thunder clapped, she shuddered within her dance yet still retained her delicate poise. As the wind howled and quickened, tearing through trees, so did her movements.

Lucius sat in rapture. As Fiorenza performed pirouettes and arabesques flawlessly, he felt something rise in him, a glimmer of something raw and exhilarating, something he hadn't felt since the day that Rionach disappeared into the Forbidden Forest. Fee's hair came loose from the knot, whipping around her face, shining waves slipping around her shoulders.

_How could I have thought this would end any other way? _he thought helplessly, his hands quivering as he clasped them over his legs. Tremors ran through him often these days; when he was writing equations in Arithmancy, measuring out ingredients in Potions, or simply staring into the fire in the common room. Thoughts of Rionach would suddenly cloud his mind so completely, the guilt pressing into him like a basilisk squeezing his ribs, causing him to tremble uncontrollably.

Fiorenza ended her dance with one leg folded beneath her, the other outstretched, toes pointed, her torso folded back until her hair was barely brushing the floor. A bead of sweat trickled down her throat.

Without a word, she stood and gathered her things, then walked towards the staircase, pausing briefly to squeeze Lucius's shoulder before leaving.

Once again alone, Lucius moved back to sit on the floor, leaning against the window, his breath warm against the cold glass. The window offered a sweeping view of the treeline of the Forbidden Forest. His hand rested in his pocket, where his thumb brushed against the gold comb that he'd given Rionach for Christmas. He closed his eyes, willing her to be there, standing at the edge of the trees, telling him everything was going to be all right, the way he had told her so many times before.

He opened his eyes. There was only dark trees, gray clouds and sheets of rain. "Please come back," he whispered.

* * *

**Deep in the Caledonian Forest, Scotland**

Rionach wiped the sweat off her brow before moving to stack the wood she'd just chopped into logs. Gathering five or six lengths at a time, she was quick about building small piles next to the various tents set up throughout the clearing. Once done, she pulled a small hatchet from her belt and got to work on making kindling.

"Afternoon, Sister," Fenrir called as he approached from the other end of the encampment. Rionach grunted in response, straightening out, letting the hatchet dangle loosely from her fingers. "Need any help with that?"

She shook her head. "I don't mind the work. Keeps my mind busy."

Fenrir nodded in understanding. "The others appreciate it."

She sighed, resuming her task. "It's the least I can do, seeing as I can't do magic to help with anything."

Fenrir reached out to place a large, dirty hand on her shoulder. Rionach stiffened at the smell, but didn't shrug him off. "We are united by one thing; our wolfblood. It's all that matters."

She gave him a small, half-hearted smile, though now, without Fiorenza's glamours, the expression had a less charming effect. "I know. They've all been kind...and it's good to be among people who understand that part of me."

Fenrir stepped back, returning her smile. "Good to hear. Why don't you go wash up. I'll finish this. Food will be ready soon."

Rionach nodded, slipping the hatchet back into her belt and leaving to grab a few things from her tent. Heading to the river to wash, she passed few people along the way, who all nodded and offered friendly greetings to their newest recruit.

When she'd woken up on that fateful day two months prior, alone, freezing, and on the edge of a clearing filled with about a dozen simple tents made from animal hides, she'd closed her eyes and prayed to whatever gods were out there that it was only a dream, that any minute she'd wake up back in her little cottage-like room, curled up against Lucius, her nose pressed against his chest.

But it wasn't a dream, and once she'd cried out the rest of her tears and spent several minutes just lying there, her forehead pressed against her knees, she'd stood, dried her face, and marched resolutely up to the first tent. No one was there, but a few furs were neatly piled up in a corner, so she wrapped one around herself before heading to the middle of the clearing where a large fire pit was set up.

The wood was wet - she assumed wizards must find a way around that - but the coals were covered and warm, so she sat with her feet outstretched over the heat until others started to wander into the camp.

They were wary of her at first, but she obviously posed no threat, alone, naked, and without magic. When Fenrir arrived, he soothed their worries, and a few hours later when her scar materialized, she received no more skepticism.

Some of the werewolves were like her, having escaped captivity among wizards, or bit by accident when they were young and ostracized by their communities. Others seemed to be old friends of Fenrir, and they were evidently in charge, organizing the chores and meals, making sure everyone was taken care of, and excitedly talking about what they called 'the cause' whenever they had the chance.

She was the only one without magic, but the others seemed to either not notice or not care. Mostly, she kept to herself, always volunteering for any kind of manual labour, and avoiding questions about her past. Fenrir asked, once, what became of Lucius, but she shook her head, unable to form the words to articulate the pain she was feeling. The larger werewolf had nodded and moved on. She could have imagined it, but for a slim second she thought she saw a glimmer of satisfaction in his eyes.

* * *

After a short walk, Rionach arrived at the river, where she promptly removed her clothes and dipped into the freezing water for a quick wash. As always, she avoided spending too much time standing still, not only because of the temperature, but also so as to avoid catching a glimpse of herself reflected in the water. There was no more smooth skin or gold combs, no more expensive clothes or sapphire earrings. She rinsed, changed, then sat on a stump near the edge of the river in order to gather her hair into a single tight braid.

As she was fastening the end of her braid, a twig snapped loudly on the other side of the river, pulling Rionach out of her reverie. The sun was starting to set, crisp yellow and purple light streaking the sky. Illuminated by a particularly wide ray of sun, a pure black unicorn walked out of the trees and over to the river, dipping its magnificent head to drink.

Rionach froze, her hair half-tied, mouth hanging open. The beast was cloaked in ethereal beauty, ink-black yet radiating light, as if it drew all the sun into itself. Its horn was ebony, smooth and dark. She inhaled sharply at the beauty of it, causing the animal to raise its head in alarm.

"I must smell horrifying to you," Rionach whispered, letting her hands slowly fall to her sides, "but I promise, I mean you no harm."

The unicorn stared back at her for a full minute, appraising her carefully. Finally, it resumed drinking from the river. Rionach gently stood, taking care to keep her movements measured and graceful. The unicorn eyed her but made no move to bolt. She took her boots off, leaving them on the shore, then stepped into the river, the cold water biting at her feet. She reached out a trembling hand towards the noble beast, her breath coming out in a long _whoosh _when it let her place her palm on its neck.

"You are so beautiful," she murmured. The unicorn raised its head and tossed it mane in response, making her laugh out loud. She stopped abruptly, the sound foreign to her; she hadn't laughed in a long time.

The unicorn pushed its nose against her palm, the velvety fur incredibly smooth. She sighed, letting her forehead fall against that of the beast. "Do you have heartache, lovely one?" she asked. "Oh God...I miss him so much."

The unicorn stepped back, tilting its head to one side as if asking her a question. She shook her head. "No, I can't go back. I need time away...I need to think."

Was it her imagination, or did the beast's eyes actually narrow at her? It was as if it was reminding her, _time is precious…_

She looked away, to the west, where the sun was sinking lower. She felt as if her entire body was thrumming with a steady ache, a constant reminder that a part of her was missing. When she turned back to the unicorn, it was gone, and she felt even more empty.

She waded back to shore, dried off and put her boots back on, then started to wander back to camp, her pace slower than usual.

About halfway back, she ran into Fenrir and two of his friends, all with their wands drawn. The setting sun threw dark shadows across their faces. She wrapped her furs tighter about her shoulders. The evenings were still chilly.

"Is something wrong?" she asked as Fenrir approached.

He grinned, shaking his head. "Nothing's wrong, Sister; quite the opposite. A black unicorn, one of the rarest of all magical creatures, was seen in this area barely an hour ago. Did you see it?"

Rionach nodded. "I did, by the river. Why are you tracking it?"

Fenrir's voice rose excitedly. "Never mind that now. Which way did it go?"

She looked from his overly-bright eyes, to the hungry ones of his followers. Something about them made her skin crawl. She cleared her voice, then nodded to her left. "It headed west, down the river," she lied.

"You heard the lass! West!" Fenrir exclaimed, frantically motioning for the others to follow him.

Rionach stayed still until their footsteps had long since faded away. What could Fenrir possibly want with a unicorn? Certainly not to eat...to sell, maybe? Her hands tightened into fists at the thought.

Eventually, she realized how much she was shivering, and quickly returned to camp. She went through the motions that had already become habit to her; ladle stew into a bowl, pick at the greens and berries set out on a platter. Help clear up the dishes, but leave the actual cleaning to those with wands. The days were still too short to do much before bed, but she always managed to do a bit of polishing and mending, intricate tasks that were better done by hand than with magic.

Once she'd finally settled in her little tent, letting the whisper of the wind soothe her to sleep, she suddenly heard Fenrir return. She stayed still, listening intently for news.

"Bloody waste of time," one of his friends was saying, sounding extremely put out.

"Now now," Fenrir replied, voice rising, "we know the beast is out there somewhere. We'll start fresh tomorrow."

"But tomorrow night's the full moon," someone pointed out. "What if we kill it while we're transformed?"

"That better not happen," Fenrir growled. "Malfoy promised a hefty sum to the hunter that could bring back a black unicorn. _Alive. _It's useless dead."

"Why not a regular unicorn? There's plenty of them around…"

"If he wanted a regular unicorn, he wouldn't have said he wanted a black one, now, would he?" Fenrir asked nastily. "One thousand Galleons. Imagine what we could do for our cause with that kind of money. We _have _to catch it tomorrow."

Rionach's eyes widened. Was Fenrir working for Lucius's father? Or was it a different Malfoy? She strained to hear more, but the voices faded as Fenrir and his friends moved away from her tent.

She couldn't idly stand by while the wolves hunted the unicorn. Her stomach churned at the thought of something so pure being defiled by a beast so dark. So she waited, barely breathing, for the entire camp to fall fast asleep.

* * *

**Malfoy Manor, Lacock, Wiltshire**

Abraxas leaned back in his leather wingback chair, his fingers steepled beneath his chin as he stared into the flames that burned in the fireplace to the left of his desk. Two men in their early forties sat across from him. The first was Evgeni Dolohov, Antonin's uncle, who had the same dark hair and hooded eyes as his nephew, but his overall appearance was much more polished. Thaddeus Nott, Evgeni's closest friend since their Hogwarts days together, was beside him. They, too, were silent, occasionally leaning over to check the time on the massive clock above the mantle.

"You're sure he's coming?" Thaddeus asked impatiently, his fingers drumming on the arm of his chair.

"Punctuality isn't the wolf's strong suit," Abraxas muttered. He motioned towards the drinks trolley across the room, beckoning the crystal decanter to drift over and refresh everyone's firewhiskey.

After another ten minutes, the flames in the fireplace turned green, then molded into a grotesque face with no eyes, its mouth lined with long, fiery teeth. "Fenrir Greyback, my Lord," the face growled.

Abraxas nodded. "Fine, send him through."

The face disappeared, and seconds later the werewolf stepped through the flames. Thaddeus and Evgeni wrinkled their noses as he brushed off his robes, causing soot to fly everywhere. "Evening, gentlemen," Fenrir said in greeting.

"Gods, he smells," Thaddeus commented, holding a handkerchief to his nose. Fenrir smiled wide in reply, displaying his sharpened teeth.

"That's no way to talk to a guest," Abraxas said disapprovingly. "Please, Fenrir. Sit with us," he said, motioning to the chair next to Evgeni.

Fenrir sat down heavily, spreading his legs wide and draping his arms over the sides of the chair in order to take up as much room as possible. He smiled at the obvious discomfort of the two men beside him.

"Well, Mister Greyback, as your tardiness has put my associates in a foul mood, I'll skip the pleasantries and get straight to business," Abraxas said as he motioned for the decanter to fill another glass of firewhiskey. "Did you manage to trap the beast?"

Fenrir's fingers smudged the crystal tumbler as he threw back his drink in one go. "We ran into an unforeseen complication," he answered before motioning for another firewhiskey.

Abraxas's mouth tightened, but he obliged nonetheless, watching the amber liquid as it trickled from the decanter to the glass, then disappeared, once again, down Fenrir's throat.

"What sort of complication?" Evgeni asked, his lip curling.

Fenrir shrugged. "Nothing I can't handle. Just a bit of miscommunication. One of my wolves threw us off the trail on purpose. She thinks I bought her lie though, so I'm keeping someone on her tail. She'll lead us right to it."

"I see." Abraxas brought his own glass to his lips, but didn't take a drink. "Tell me more about this...wolf of yours."

Fenrir's eyes glinted mischievously. "Why? What's she to you?"

"Oh, simple curiosity. Strange to me that a werewolf would defend a beast as pure as the black unicorn," Abraxas said airily.

"Well," Fenrir started, no longer waiting to be served and simply pouring himself another drink. "She's a bit of a strange one. I bit her over a year ago, but thanks to some poachers in the area, she was immediately lost to me. I believe she was sold to a trainer who wanted to have her compete in the werewolf fights in Rome." He sneered that last, bringing his drink back up to his lips and watching Abraxas over the top of the glass.

Thaddeus waved his hand impatiently. "This is pointless, Abraxas. What could you possibly want to know about one of this animal's accursed spawn?"

"Careful, wizard," Fenrir snarled, flexing his hands in order to display his long, yellow nails.

"Manners, gentlemen," Abraxas reprimanded. "Fenrir. The girl? She returned to you?"

"Again, I ask," Fenrir said coldly. "What's a werewolf girl to you?"

Evgeni's eyes flashed dangerously. "You are the one who should be treading carefully, wolf. You are among two of the Dark Lord's original Knights of Walpurgis, and Abraxas Malfoy, one of the most well-respected and influential wizards in Britain. There is more power in this room than you could possibly imagine."

Fenrir leaned back, unfazed. "Knights of Walpurgis? I heard you're calling yourselves 'Death Eaters' now. Bit less of a mouthful, that."

"Don't be coy, wolf," Evgeni said menacingly.

Fenrir shrugged, turning his attention back to the master of the Manor. "Let's dispense with this pretense, Malfoy. The girl is sixteen, maybe seventeen, long red hair, massive scar on her face. But you already knew that, didn't you? I assume you also knew that she's been hiding out at Hogwarts since September, squirrelled away by none other than your own son?"

The two men beside him exchanged horrified glances. "Abraxas," Thaddeus ground out, "is this true?"

Abraxas placed one hand on the serpent-headed cane that leaned against his chair. "It is."

Evgeni watched him suspiciously. "Does this have to do with what you were telling my nephew last summer? The plan you had in mind for young Lucius?"

"It does." Abraxas rose from his chair. He limped over to the fireplace, relishing in the warmth of the flames. "Gentlemen, if you had a son, your one and only heir, and he seemed to be...not _quite _convinced that our cause was sufficient reason for war, what would you do?"

"I'd beat him until he thought otherwise," Thaddeus sneered.

"And if that didn't work?" Abraxas asked mildly.

Evgeni was closer to his friend's train of thought. "I'd take away something he loved," he said slowly. "Something that, if he were to lose it...or _her_...it might drive my son to do unspeakable things. Violent things. Cruel things."

"The bitter sting of young love lost," Abraxas murmured.

Thaddeus raised an eyebrow. "Strange to hear you speak of love, Abraxas."

Fenrir folded his arms across his chest, eyebrows raised. "I don't understand...how'd you know the boy would even want her? She's not exactly a pretty thing. Not anymore, at any rate."

Abraxas shrugged. "Lucius has always wanted what he couldn't have. All I had to do was give him a little push - and for that, I enlisted the help of his childhood friend."

Evgeni's eyes widened in surprise. "The Worple boy?"

Abraxas nodded. "Yes. The boy's family's depressingly poor. He agreed to my lowest offer immediately. It was almost too easy." He shook his head in disgust. "The lower classes are so unbearably spineless."

"So what was the end game here?" Fenrir asked, frowning.

"Oh, let's not get ahead of ourselves," Abraxas countered. "An old man is still allowed a few little mysteries, yes? First, we should talk business. The fact that the girl is now under your care is rather inconvenient - although it is an improvement from not knowing her whereabouts at all. My last owl from Worple was nearly two months ago." His eyes focused on Fenrir. "Would you be willing to bring her to me?"

The werewolf's nostrils flared. "I'm not selling one of my wolves back to you. I don't want her back in the arena. We're trying to destroy the fights."

"Of course not," Abraxas said soothingly. He shuffled back over to his chair, his bones creaking as he sat down again. "She would be well taken care of. And I would make it worth your while."

Fenrir leaned forward at that, his misgivings fading. "How worth it?"

"Well, if you manage to bring me both the unicorn and the girl, then I will add an extra five hundred Galleons to your reward."

Fenrir snorted. "From what I've heard, you need this girl even more than you need that bloody unicorn. The reward should be doubled. And I'd like to meet this leader of yours."

"What could you possibly have to discuss with our illustrious Lord?" Thaddeus spat.

"I wouldn't mind some extra support for my cause, and I'm sure I could offer a few services of my own," Fenrir retorted.

"Fine," Abraxas snapped. "Two thousand Galleons, and you'll have your introduction. I won't put in a good word for you, though. You make your own case."

Fenrir grinned widely. "What would I do with your words, Malfoy? I can be convincing entirely on my own."

"It's settled, then," Abraxas said as he gathered parchment and ink, quickly drawing up a contract. "This will be magically binding for both of us. You bring me the girl and the unicorn within a fortnight, and I will give you your gold. Sign here."

Fenrir leaned across Abraxas's desk in order to sign the parchment, then stood to walk over to the fireplace. Before leaving, however, he turned back to Abraxas, a questioning look on his face. "Me and my brothers were wondering, Malfoy...what do you need a _black _unicorn for, anyhow?"

Abraxas stroked his chin thoughtfully, as if deciding whether to answer. Finally, he said, "The blood of the white unicorn, if you keep drinking it, will give you eternal life at the cost of your own soul, but the side effects are rather a nuisance. The black unicorn's blood also provides immortality, and you will live a fuller, more vibrant life - but the price is greater."

Fenrir's eyes narrowed with interest. "And what might that price be?"

"The soul of another," Abraxas answered. "When the blood of the black unicorn runs through your veins, the person closest to you will, over time, turn mad, then fade away into nothing."

Fenrir looked surprisingly thoughtful. "Don't think I'd like to be immortal. Takes the fun out of things." He stepped into the fireplace. "Always a pleasure, gentlemen," he said with a mock bow. He tossed a handful of Floo powder at his feet, then disappeared in a swirl of green flames.

"I didn't know that about the black unicorn. Was it all true, or were you just making things up for your filthy guest?" Thaddeus asked.

"Certainly it's true," Abraxas assured him. The corner of his mouth tugged up in a rare genuine smile. "How do you think I managed to live so long? Don't act surprised - you both knew about the Dragon Pox."

The other two men shuffled their hands uncomfortably, but said nothing to contradict him. "And the soul that will fade?" Evgeni asked.

Abraxas's smile grew wider. "I knew I'd find a use for that worthless wife of mine eventually."

Thaddeus chuckled into his drink. "You continue to surprise me with your ruthlessness, old friend."

Evgeni's eyebrows furrowed as he swirled the ice in his glass. "Strange, though. I would've thought that the person closest to you would be your son."

Abraxas shook his head. "At one time, perhaps. And he will be, once again, when he comes to his senses. But these past few years we have been distant...the fickle attitudes of adolescence, I suppose."

"I wonder whose soul the Dark Lord will choose to take?" Evgeni wondered.

"I have a few theories," Abraxas replied. He motioned for the decanter to fill their glasses again.

"My money's on Bellatrix," Thaddeus muttered. "Her devotion to the Dark Lord is...fervent. It's slightly alarming in one so young."

"Would that we all showed such fervent devotion to our Lord," Abraxas snapped warningly.

There was silence in the room for a moment as the three men contemplated that last. Thaddeus poured himself a larger firewhiskey than was polite while the massive clock ticked loudly in the quiet room.

"Dobby," Abraxas barked.

His house elf instantly appeared, head bent in obeisance. "Yes, Master Malfoy?"

Abraxas waved at the chair previously occupied by the werewolf. "Take that away and burn it."


	18. Chapter XVIII

**Chapter Eighteen - Into The Wolf Den**

* * *

_We have doomed the wolf not for what it is,  
__But for what we deliberately and mistakenly perceive it to be -  
__The mythologized epitome of a savage, ruthless killer -  
__Which is, in reality, no more than a reflected image of ourself.  
_

From **Never Cry Wolf** by Farley Mowatt

* * *

**March 21st, 1970 - Spring Equinox  
****Slughorn's Office, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft &amp; Wizardry**

_Lucius_

Professor Slughorn's Spring Equinox parties had started to lessen in popularity over the years, he noted with interest. The majority of guests were still Slytherin, but not quite as many as he was used to seeing in this office. He supposed it had to do with old pureblood families spending less time upholding ancient traditions. In fact, he suspected that the only reason the professor still hosted such parties at all was because Abraxas still held the traditions dear.

As if on cue, a large, pink hand grasped Lucius's shoulder firmly. "Mr. Malfoy! I daresay I've spent this entire party neglecting my favourite student. All is to your liking, I presume?"

"Of course, Professor Slughorn," Lucius replied with a syrupy smile, standing and turning slightly to face the professor. "I'll be sure to tell my father about what an excellent evening it's been."

Slughorn beamed, winking sloppily. His cheeks were splotched with crimson. "He's a good chap, your father. Fair in all things." He leaned forward, as if sharing a great secret, but said only, "Perhaps one day you'll be on the board of governors too, ehh?"

"Perhaps," Lucius said tightly, inclining his head while taking a small step back. Slughorn's breath was rank.

"Excellent my boy, simply excellent," the professor muttered, already looking elsewhere. "Do enjoy yourselves…." His voice trailed off as he wandered over to bother a waiter for more elf wine.

"What was all that about?" Beside him, Narcissa raised an inquisitive eyebrow as she sipped her drink.

Lucius rolled his eyes. "Oh, unimportant. Sluggy's just ensuring this year's bonus cheque gets signed."

Narcissa sniffed as if something rotten were suddenly placed beneath her nose, then turned to chat with another girl from her year, the two of them immediately descending into animated conversation. Pale blonde curls shook as she giggled, the slippery fabric of her sage green dress sliding around her shoulders. Just past her, in a shadowy corner, he noticed Eldred staring at them, a dark frown on his face.

"Ignore him," Fiorenza said as she swept down on his other side, placing a drink in his hand. "He needs time."

Lucius threw back the drink in one go, then grimaced into the glass. "Where did you dig up this sludge?"

"Not the smoothest, is it? Nicked it from Sprout's office. Hufflepuffs always have the most abominable taste in liquor," she answered with a sniff, settling into her chair and winking as Flitwick walked by, causing the small wizard to stumble into another student.

"You're evil, Fee," Lucius said with a shadow of a smile.

She shrugged elegantly before pouring her drink into a potted plant to her left. "I enjoy myself."

There were many plants and trees in the office, delicate white lights dripping from the edges of the larger branches. Budding violets and tulips decorated the tables. At each place setting was a small pot of earth, for as each student first entered the party, they chose a seedling to plant to represent the rebirth and new beginnings that spring represented. Beside each pot of earth was a small vial of water and a white candle.

It was nearly time for the ceremony. Lucius peered over at the tiny plant carelessly dangling from Fiorenza's right hand. "What flower did you choose? An orchid, for your delicate beauty?"

She gave him a strange look. "Lilac."

His expression sobered. "First love?" When she nodded, he looked down at his hands. "Where will you plant it?"

"In Sicily, I think. Where Eldred and I- where we celebrated the new year," she replied softly.

"It won't survive in the Italian heat," Lucius commented wryly.

She raised an eyebrow. "Appropriate, don't you think?"

He didn't have anything to say to that.

Fiorenza nudged his elbow. "What did you choose?"

"Magnolia," he muttered, eyeing his seedling with distaste. "The flower of dignity."

Fiorenza straightened in her chair, tossing dark curls to one side. "Really? I thought you might have picked a peony for healing, or forget-me-not to remember…."

He coolly glanced at Agatha Yaxley, sitting as far away from him as possible on the other side of the room. "Not this time."

His friend opened her mouth to respond, but was cut off by Slughorn asking everyone to be seated so the planting could begin. After a few moments of shuffling and chairs scraping, the room was quiet. Beside him, Fiorenza, like most others, sifted some of the dirt around with her wand, then levitated the seedling into the hole, letting the earth fall back around it.

Lucius paused, watching Tracy Crawford at the table next to theirs. She dug a small hole in the earth with her fingers, her wand untouched, then carefully picked up her tiny yarrow plant and placed it softly in the pot, delicately patting the dirt around it. He wondered who she was planting good health for.

He placed his fingers in the earth before him, surprised by the cool, crumbly texture. In Herbology they always wore gloves, so he never actually _felt _the dirt. Once a hole was formed, he placed his little sprig in the earth, and, after shooting one last venomous look towards Agatha, patted down the dirt around the roots. He felt strangely satisfied, and glanced up in time to see Crawford staring back at him with an incredulous look on her face. He frowned, wiping his hands on a napkin, then focused on what Slughorn was saying to his guests.

"Now, to complete our little tradition, you will water your seedlings with the water you find next to your pot - no, Mister Nott, the water is not for flicking at Miss Yaxley. Do conduct yourself with _some _measure of decorum," the portly professor reprimanded with a stern look, though it was undermined a bit by the fact that he was swaying slightly beside his chair, his nose and the tips of his ears tinged red.

"Yes, exactly so - excellent. Now, hold your pot over the candle, as we will now bless it with fire."

Lucius lifted his little magnolia pot over the tiny flame, feeling the heat lick his fingertips. Beside him, Fiorenza did the same, though her eyes were closed.

"And finally, blow through your seedlings' leaves - if it has any - to complete the ritual with the element of air."

Fiorenza whispered something to her plant before blowing softly on it, which Lucius found rather odd, as she'd never taken Slughorn's Spring Equinox parties very seriously before. He supposed she must have a lot to let go of. He blew a little on his own seedling, letting his eyes focus on the flickering light of the candle.

After a moment, the party resumed, students and teachers once again mingling and picking at the hors d'oeuvres that were left. Lucius leaned back in his chair, his gaze flicking towards his future wife, who was staring at her plant rather intensely. He furrowed his brow. "What did you choose, Narcissa? That doesn't look like a flower."

She straightened, turning fully towards him. "It's not. This is a sprig of ivy, for fidelity." She lightly touched a small, dark green leaf. "Perhaps once I'm living at the Manor, I can let it grow up one of the outer walls." Her tone was light, but an eyebrow raised inquisitively.

Lucius shifted uncomfortably, his mouth tightening. "Best not. Over time, ivy can tear down even the thickest of stone."

Narcissa's face twisted, her usually pretty, rosy features turning pinched. "When I am mistress of Malfoy Manor, I'll plant as much ivy as I please," she hissed.

"When you are my _wife_," Lucius snapped, "you will do as I say." He shoved his chair back roughly, ignoring the stares of a few nearby students who'd evidently overheard their exchange. He stalked out of the party without looking back, leaving a bewildered Fiorenza staring after him.

The Malfoy family ring adorning Narcissa's slim finger glinted in the candlelight as she rose carefully, swept her dress, long and traditional, around her, then followed Lucius out. By the time she stepped outside, he was at the other end of the hall.

"Eldred told me about your wolf-girl."

Her words echoed around the stone walls, causing Lucius to freeze, his face slowly turning to look at her. He was in shadow, save for a thin strip of moonlight from a small, high window that made his gray eyes sharpen. "What did you say?"

Narcissa walked towards him slowly, the long, green dress swishing against the stone floor. Her pale blonde curls tumbled down to her waist, her chin raised defiantly. "You heard me. Eldred told me everything. How you stole the creature away from your father; how you kept it here, in this castle, among young children; how you _slept _with it." She spit out that last, her hands balled into fists at her side.

"Her name," he growled, noting with satisfaction that she took a small step back, her eyes nervous, "is Rionach."

She took a steadying breath, then narrowed her eyes, her expression resolved. "I don't _care. _Obviously. This isn't about me - it's never been about me, has it? It's always about you."

Her words echoed Eldred's too clearly; a shudder shook his hands. "What do you want?"

Narcissa's hands relaxed at her sides, a small smirk playing at the corners of her lips. "I want a proper husband, Lucius." She walked up to him slowly, swaying her hips, reaching her hand up to his face. He shivered beneath her touch. "Do you really find me so repugnant?" she whispered.

He closed his eyes, swallowed hard. "You know how beautiful you are, Narcissa," he breathed. She smelled like peonies and honey, so, so sweet.

She brought her other hand up to his cheek, let it trail down the side of his jaw. "I've never heard you actually say it before," she murmured.

His heart felt like lead in his chest. His eyes flew open, and he stepped back slowly, shaking his head. "I can't be who you want me to be," he snarled, stepping away. "Don't speak to me like that again."

He left her standing alone in the corridor, angry tears welling in her eyes and dripping into the folds of her dress.

* * *

**Deep in the Caledonian Forest, Scotland**

_Rionach_

She waited until no one had stirred for quite some time. It took much longer than she'd hoped, with people often coming and going in the late hours of the night, so it wasn't until just before dawn crept up over the edges of the trees that she crawled out of her tent, carefully brushing the ground with her toes before taking a step in order to avoid snapping a twig.

She stayed low to the ground until she was out of sight of the tents, then straightened, tightening her furs about her. Every few paces, she paused, sniffing the air, though it was hard to pick up different scents so close to the camp; everything smelled like wolf.

Eventually she made her way to the spot where she'd bathed the day before, and spent some time searching the area for clues as to the unicorn's whereabouts. After some time, she found a single, long ebony tail hair draped across a twig that had a small, green bud growing at the end. She smiled happily, then started walking east.

Her progress was slow, but eventually she managed to pick up the unicorn's scent, and moved faster through the trees. An hour passed, and with the forest bathed in a warm, orange glow, she came upon a small grove of elm trees, completely out of place in the forest comprised mostly of pine, birch and juniper.

A thick beam of light poured onto a spot in the centre of the grove, breaking through the half-grown foliage above. At the bottom of the sun beam, the black unicorn lay, slumped on its side, head tucked into its flank.

She walked slowly up to the beast. It was difficult not to sprint, she felt so giddy with relief. About ten paces away, she paused, waiting for the unicorn to sense her presence.

The magnificent creature gently lifted its head in a gesture so noble and beautiful, her knees felt weak. Its eyes had a deep, ancient sadness to them that rippled through her.

_I have been waiting for you._

She _felt _rather than heard its words. Her eyebrows drew together in surprise, and she shook her head, trying to ignore the feeling of dread that was sinking into her.

"Waiting for me? No, no, you shouldn't be waiting, you should be running! You have to leave this place, this forest, to somewhere far, far away. You are being hunted!" she said desperately, taking a step closer.

The unicorn shook its head, glossy mane shimmering in the beam of light.

_We are already surrounded, little one._

"Surrounded? But...I was so careful! Why would they have waited before…" She felt her stomach lurch as realization dawned on her. "They followed me here," she whispered, falling to her knees. Would she ever stop drowning in the thick sludge of despair? "I lead them right to you."

The unicorn rose to its feet, then slowly strode over to her, lowering its head to her temple. She felt its warm breath against her ear as she started to cry. "I'm sorry."

_It is the end of an era, little one. Be strong now. This is not the end of suffering for you._

"What do you-?" she started to ask, but then a curse hit her in the back, and the world faded away.

* * *

**March 22nd, 1970 - Morning after the Full Moon  
****Malfoy Manor, Lacock, Wiltshire**

She spent a long time lying on the cool metal floor of her cage, letting the cold seep into the pounding heat thrumming through her head. Blurred, colourful shapes moved around her, sifting in and out of focus, their voices a dull roar in the back of her mind. Focusing on them was exhausting; after a while, she slipped back into unconsciousness.

When she woke again, she noticed right away that her head was a thousand times clearer, and her vision was perfectly sharp. She suspected that a potion of some kind had been fed to her while she was sleeping. At first, she focused on her arms, stretched out in front of her, that had long, angry red welts scraped into the skin. Remnants of her transformation, she supposed. Everything was a hazy blur. She must've been locked up for at least twenty-four hours, if she'd already gone through a full moon.

There were a few more bruises and scrapes on her legs and elbows, and a spot behind her left ear that still throbbed, but otherwise she seemed physically fine.

Next, she checked her surroundings. There was hardly anything in the room other than huge stone bowls placed against the walls, flames flickering within. She was alone, and recognized the same massive, wrought iron cage that Lucius's father had originally put her in when she first came to the Manor. She swore softly as she realized exactly where she was and to whom she had returned.

"Such indelicate language from a lady; a bit unsurprising, I must admit, but I had hoped to be wrong about you." The words were slick, delivered in a steady, bored tone, but one that she recognized instantly.

"Sorry to disappoint, Abraxas," she growled, standing as tall as she could. She suddenly became aware of the very thin, tattered garment hanging off of her body, but resisted the urge to cross her arms over her chest.

The old wizard barely glanced at her; in fact, whenever his eyes did happen to slide in her direction, a swift look of disgust swept over his features and his eyes would shift to a spot above her head. He wore robes of deep emerald green, and held a white handkerchief over his nose and mouth. Three large wolfhounds stood around him, their eyes unfriendly, guarding their master. "No apologies necessary, my dear. It is only your nature. I had a small hope that my son would be above such...temptations...but no matter, you served a purpose, and you served it well."

"I don't understand," she said quietly, her shoulders losing some of their pride. "Does that mean you knew...all this time…?"

Abraxas snorted into his kerchief, eyes narrowing. "Do you really think anything goes on in this house that I don't know about? That two young boys could smuggle a werewolf out from under my roof without my having the faintest idea what was happening?"

"But then why...that doesn't make any sense! Why would you let me go?" she spluttered, completely folding in on herself, sinking to the bottom of the cage. She suddenly realized how badly her hands were shaking; her body was starting to realize something that her mind had yet to catch up to.

"My son, though of age to be marked as one of our Lord's Knights, was too soft." Abraxas limped closer to one of the bowls of fire, fingers outstretched, letting the flames lick his hands. Though she could feel the heat from the centre of the room, he did not flinch. The dance of the fire echoed in his eyes, pupils reflecting the scene before him. "My fears were confirmed when he took you from this house."

"Is it such a tragedy," she whispered, forehead pressed against the bars of her cage, "to have a son capable of love?"

Abraxas turned away from the fire, knuckles white as he tightened his hand on his cane. "Love would turn my own flesh and blood against me. It would turn him deceitful and spineless, shrinking in the shadows, questioning his loyalty to ME! Love would bring the Malfoy name, everything I've worked for, everything I've accomplished, crashing down around us." He breathed deeply, the sound rattling along through his chest. "And that would, indeed, be tragic."

Rionach slowly looked up, the long tresses of her hair dragging along the bottom of the cage. Her voice was steady, yet hollow, when she next spoke. "What are you going to do to me?"

Abraxas lowered the handkerchief from his face, then limped forward, stooping so he would be at eye level with his prisoner. She smelled decay on his breath; this was a man who should have died long ago.

"I am going to give you a choice."

She made a small, startled noise at the back of her throat, at which the old man chuckled as he straightened so that he once again loomed above her. "Oh yes. It is now for you to decide your fate. Your first option - you die. Here and now, as I see fit. An enemy of our Lord's will be framed for your murder, and Lucius will be required to hunt them down as part of his initiation into the Death Eaters - a task which I am sure he would perform with enthusiasm after being shown your lifeless corpse."

Her mouth felt like sandpaper. It took every ounce of resolve to look her captor in the eye and ask, in a thin, hollow voice, "And my other choice?"

Abraxas smiled; the expression made her nails dig into the palms of her hands. "Oh, I think you will like this one. You will be brought to the edge of the Forbidden Forest. My contact in the school will bring Lucius to find you. Once you and my son are reunited, you will present him with a choice: if it is what he wishes, the two of you may leave the country, together. He will leave the Malfoy name behind him, along with any possessions of value. The two of you will be unhindered, but Lucius may never return, lest he wishes to be hunted down like a dog."

She was having trouble stopping massive tremors from shuddering through her body. "You would hunt your own son?"

"If he renounced the Malfoy name, he would no longer be my son, but rather the company he keeps," Abraxas spat, his hand tightening over his cane. "He would not deserve it."

"How can one man be so filled with hatred?" Rionach shakily asked, backing into the opposite side of her cage. "It is _you_ who does not deserve _him_!" One of the hounds growled low in its throat, but was silenced when his master's hand stroked its neck.

"Are you sure? Am I not giving you the opportunity to be together? Surely that counts for something," Abraxas replied airily, completely unfazed by her remarks.

"But to force him to leave his home! His friends, his life, everything! We would be beggars," she exclaimed weakly. "And what if…"

"...he decides to stay?" Abraxas finished, examining his nails. "That's the choice Lucius would have to make. He may leave, with you, and without his titles. Or he may stay, and you will be sold to the highest bidder."

The blood drained completely from her face. "Lucius would never let me back into the arena," she replied desperately. "He...he loves me."

Abraxas rolled his eyes towards the ceiling, exasperation clouding his features. "Perhaps. But you see, there is the smallest, most miniscule of catches to this offer of mine." He slid his wand out from his cane, causing Rionach to flinch, but only transfigured one of the concrete bowls of fire into a throne-like chair. Once sitting, emerald robes swishing across the floorboards, he looked back at her, mouth pinched. His three hounds lay down around his chair, one on either side, and one in front, at his feet. _He could be Hades, _she thought to herself, taking in the withered man and his dogs.

When she said nothing, he continued. "If you choose to go to Lucius, you will not be alone. My dogs, you see, are quite perceptive; they will know if you mention my role in this, and not hesitate to attack. Either of you. In addition, you may not tell Lucius that should he decline, you will be sold. You will say that you are simply leaving, with or without him."

She turned her face away, letting her eyes close. Her mind drifted to happier days, of brushing cold, wet, hair from a burning cheek, her eyes fixated on deep, red lips. The feel of his heart beating against hers while the rain beat the ground beneath them. She tried to remember his smell, his taste, his touch. It scared her how quickly some memories could fade. And his betrayal? It seemed a small thing, now. She was so cold. She longed for his warmth, his flesh pressed against hers. Everything else was trivial.

And she felt so tired. Tired of being used, manipulated, tied up. Tired of always being a tool, a means to an end. Her first option had a certain appeal to it. She felt so bone-weary, and she didn't trust that Abraxas would let them just leave. Every word he spoke was laced with deceit. Could death bring her peace? For a long time, she'd thought that she would never be able to choose her time to die...to have such a choice...

No. Not if it meant leaving behind Lucius, leaving him to his father and a future laced with death and suffering. And what if...what if they really could leave together? Would their love endure? They would have nothing, but they could live off the land for a while, and at least they would have each other...there was comfort in that, but she was afraid to hope.

Abraxas clucked impatiently. His dogs perked up at the noise. "What will it be, my dear? You are the mistress of your own fate, here."

Rionach snorted. "The illusion of choice is no choice at all, old man. Of course I will go to Lucius."

Abraxas raised a thick, silvery eyebrow. "Are you sure? Should he refuse.…" He purposely trailed off, allowing her to contemplate a fate worse than death.

"He won't," she said firmly. "He would follow me to the ends of the earth, if I asked. And in any case, if he did refuse..." her breath left her for a moment. She breathed deeply, slowly, then continued. "At least he will not have a corpse to swear revenge over."

"How...romantic," Abraxas answered. He smiled cruelly. "I have a potential buyer in Cairo, prepared to offer a hefty sum. Lucky for me, you made quite the impression in Rome." He reached over to scratch one of his dogs between the ears. The animal closed its eyes in pleasure.

"You won't be making any more gold off of me," she muttered, eyes downcast. She still fought to keep her hands steady.

"Perhaps," Abraxas answered as he stood. The dogs climbed to their feet in unison. "At dusk, you will leave this place." He turned to leave, limping slightly, surrounded by the wolfhounds.

"Abraxas."

He didn't turn, but he stopped, leaning heavily on the cane.

Rionach stood slowly, walking to the edge of her cage. She gripped the bars tightly, willing herself to stay tall. Even if he wouldn't look at her, she wanted him to hear the strength in her voice. "You're wrong about your son. He is fierce, loyal and strong. But you're also right. He is kind and empathetic. And tomorrow we will be rid of you and this wretched place."

Still, he did not turn. He simply repeated himself. "Perhaps."

Then he was gone.

Once again, she sank to the bottom of her cage. Fears clung to the edges of her mind like talons digging into flesh, but she didn't allow herself to be consumed by them. She had to trust in Lucius. Her sanity depended on it.

Wrapping her arms around herself, she lay down, curled with her knees up to her chest. She wouldn't sleep - she was too afraid that despair would take hold if she lost consciousness - but she let her mind drift, only hazy memories of rain and warmth dancing behind her eyes.

* * *

_Abraxas_

He limped down the hall slowly, fingers trailing along the stone walls of his Manor. Ahead, a shadowy figure stepped out into the candlelight, long, dark curls spilling over her shoulders and framing a perfect, pale face.

"Bellatrix."

The eldest Black daughter nodded respectfully, offering her arm to him. "Abraxas."

He shooed the hounds away before taking the proffered arm. "Darling Bella. You weren't eavesdropping on my little conversation with our guest, were you?"

Bellatrix stiffened slightly, lowering her eyes demurely. "I confess, as I walked by, I accidentally heard a little of what you said. And…" she trailed off, pausing their walk to gaze out a window at the grounds.

He had no doubt that there was no 'accident,' but said nothing to the contrary. "And?"

"And I am a bit...concerned. What purpose would selling the werewolf serve? If Lucius has no knowledge of it...wouldn't your plan all be for naught? And, by the gods, what if Lucius actually decides to leave? You would just let them...run?"

Abraxas said nothing, but gestured that they should step outside. It was an unseasonably warm day for March. Lilac trees were not yet in bloom, but delicate violet buds hung from their branches. Warm sunlight shimmered onto Bellatrix's gown of black silk.

Once seated at a stone bench, Abraxas patted the witch's hand carefully. "I understand that this is a deep concern for you, as your sister is betrothed to my son. But let me be clear, Bellatrix; should you ever listen in on a personal conversation of mine again, there will be _severe _consequences. Understood?"

Delicate nostrils flared, but otherwise, Bellatrix simply nodded slightly. Satisfied, Abraxas continued. "Now, to answer your question. I have every confidence that my son will make the appropriate choice. And all will be arranged accordingly."

Bellatrix opened her mouth to protest, but Abraxas shook his head firmly. "That is all I will say, my dear. Now, I believe you have a fiancé of your own to meet in the drawing room. Thaddeus and Evgeni are also here. We have much to discuss."

Bellatrix smiled tightly, turning her face into the breeze. "I trust you know what you're doing, Abraxas."

Long silver hair drifted lightly in the wind, taking some of the stench of death with it. Abraxas stood, robes billowing around him. "Purity will always conquer."

* * *

_Author's Note: _Hey. It's been a while. *cue long list of excuses*  
Wanted to quickly give **Cordelia McGonagall **another shoutout for still being the best beta there is, and putting up with my mini fanfiction hiatus. Side note - we're nearly at 100,000 words! Yay! Hope you are all well and that you will hold on with me for these last few chapters. The end is near... xx


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